Sway
by tiny dancer
Summary: **Updated 04/11** This is a story of the trio in their 7th year. Harry tries to let go of his first love, all the while waiting for Voldemort to strike. HP/HG, HG/DM. Please enjoy and review!
1. To Love Somebody

Hey all! I'm back with my brand new story, Home. I really hope you like it! It's a Romance/Angst/Drama/Tragedy-type—and for the first time, Voldemort's gonna be in it! I'm looking forward to writing this story, and I hope you all enjoy it. Please r&r, it'd be much appreciated. Thanks!! 

**

CHAPTER ONE: TO LOVE SOMEBODY 

_\ \I live and breathe for you/ but what good does it do/ if I ain't got you/ ain't got you/You don't know what it's like baby/oh, no/you don't know what its like/to love somebody/to love somebody/the way I love you. // _

+The Beegees+

            Hermione Granger let out a sigh of frustration and ran her fingers through her brown, bushy hair. It was getting late, and it was time for her to make an incredibly difficult decision: what to do with herself after school.

            School meant many things to Hermione. It wasn't just Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she was the new Head Girl. It was important to her. Hermione loved academia. She always made the highest grades of her year.

            School also meant Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, her two best friends. They were every bit important to her as academics—if not more.

            But at the moment, she was holed up in the Head Boy and Girls' common room, flipping through a thick booklet. She had so many possibilities! _Healer at St. Mungo's, Professor, Auror, Department of Mysteries, Gringott's bank…anything I want!_ she thought excitedly.

            Ron had told her many times that she was wasting a lot of her time. It was only September, and they had until February to make up their minds. But Hermione was adamant about choosing as soon as possible. That way, she wouldn't be rushing at the last moment and making a rash decision at the last second, one she might regret later.

            "Typical Hermione," Harry had teased her. And he was right. This _was_ typical of her. But she didn't care.

            _I am _really_ interested in Healing,_ she mused. _But being a professor doesn't sound too bad, either. But if I choose to be a professor, I'd have to subject to focus on._

_            And Harry and Ron thought I was crazy for doing this so early! _she thought with a grin.

            Just then the door to the common room and the Head Boy stepped in. "Hey, Hermione," he greeted casually.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione answered back.

            It hadn't come as a surprise to Hermione that Harry had been appointed Head Boy. He was an incredibly talented wizard and was actually quite intelligent. Hermione felt that if he applied himself more, his grades could be better than hers—well, maybe. But every time she brought this up with him, he grumbled and rolled his eyes and told her to be quiet.

            "You're still up?" he asked, peering over her shoulder at the booklet.

            "Yeah, but I'm going to go to bed soon."

            "All right. I'll see you in the morning?"

            "Definitely. Good night, Harry."

            "'Night, Hermione," he replied. He gave her shoulders a squeeze, then crossed the common room and went inside his private dorm.

            Hermione watched him, knowing how fortunate she was. She'd been honoured to be named Head Girl. As a reward for her achievements and previous tasks, she was granted the use of the Head Boy and Girls' Suite. In it, set apart slightly from the rest of the Gryffindor tower, was two bedrooms, each with a small en suite bathroom, connected by a small common room. Of course, the Gryffindor common room was always more enjoyable, with all the Gryffindors always about, but when she needed some real peace and quiet, this little one would come in handy. 

            If Harry hadn't become Head Boy, she would've had the entire Suite to herself—both rooms included. It was rare that the Head Boy and Head Girl came from the same house in the same year, but the school was obviously prepared for such occasions.

            _Besides, I _love_ sharing this suite with him,_ Hermione thought, turning back to her booklet. _I couldn't ask for more in a best friend._

Harry was smart, cute—5'10, messy jet black hair and brilliantly green eyes—and completely understood her. She didn't always need to tell him exactly what she was thinking in order for him to comprehend what was going on.

            _Unlike Ron,_ she thought with a giggle. Ron was the complete opposite. He always meant well and had a heart of gold, but Ron had a complete lack of understanding girls. _Which is why he's gone from girlfriend to girlfriend in the last few years._

Still, she cared for Ron plenty. He too was smart—but cared about school even less than Harry—he was funny and wasn't bad on the eyes, either, with flaming red hair, bright blue eyes and a winning smile.

            _I'm lucky to have both of them,_ she admitted. 

            Hermione yawned hugely and glanced at her watch. It was quarter to twelve, and she had class early the next morning. 

            Yawning again, she closed her book and dropped it on the table.

            _Tomorrow,_ she promised herself as she ambled to her room.

*

            "Hermione! Hurry up! You're going to be late!" Harry shouted through the door.

            "Just a minute!" she shouted back.

            Harry leaned against the frame. "I keep telling you not to stay up so late reading that damn booklet," he reprimanded her. "You'll be late for breakfast."

            Finally the door clicked open. "I'm ready," she said coyly.

            "About time. C'mon, let's go."

            Together they took a short cut across the Suite and ended up in the hallway. "You know, you _do_ have several months to make your decision," he reminded her gently.

            "I know that. I just want to be prepared."

            Harry grinned. "It's only our second week back."

            "Yes, but we're going to be so busy. You especially. Between homework and N.E.W.T.s, being Head Boy _and_ Quidditch Captain, you've got a lot to do this year. And you haven't even made up your mind about what you want to do," she added before he could reply.

            "It's still between being an Auror and playing Quidditch. But I have plenty of time to make up my mind."

            Hermione sighed and dropped the subject. Finally, after all these years, she understood when to give up.

            "Tell you what," he said quickly. "This weekend, how about you and I sit down and talk about this? We'll invite Ron, too. Maybe we can make up our minds." He doubted it, but at least it was somewhat of a compromise.

            "All right," Hermione agreed, looking mollified. "I'll talk to Professor McGonagall. Maybe she has some extra booklets on careers or advice, or maybe she can—"

            Harry's attention drifted as Hermione rambled on. It was so hard to believe how far they'd come. They were good friends from their first year at Hogwarts, but Ron had always been his absolute _best_ friend. He never considered her romantically. Harry even thought that she was better suited for Ron.

            Things changed in their fifth year. Harry's world was upside down and he didn't know how to deal with it. Hermione and Ron tried to be there for him, but in the end, Hermione was the one who'd gotten through to him. And that's when the romantic feelings began towards her.

            For a large portion of their sixth year, he kept these feelings underwrap. No one knew of them, least of all Hermione. But when he finally got the courage to tell her, he was pleasantly surprised: she felt the same way. 

            The relationship had lasted only a few months. They broke up because it was putting a strain on them and everyone around them. They'd hope that the break-up would put an end to all of that, but they had been wrong.

            Very wrong.

            Over a year later, the old relationship still effected every part of their born anew friendship. They could still open up to each other but found it came at a great personal cost. And when they'd both tried to move on, neither were successful: Hermione's relationship with Ravenclaw Terry Boot ended on bad terms; Harry's relationship with Parvati Patil lasted a few months before she accused him of still loving Hermione and broke up with him.

            What a disaster.

            And what was worse, Harry wasn't 100% convinced he was over Hermione.  He still thought about her a lot—maybe too much—and he hated the thought of her with some other guy. So, in truth, Parvati's accusation wasn't far off base. 

            Some desparate part of him hoped that she felt the same way and that they would get back together. The more realistic side of him realized that it was, in fact, over between them.

            "Hey, hurry up, slowpoke!" Hermione suddenly called out. Harry shook himself out of his daze and realized he'd fallen several steps behind her.

            As he ran to catch up to her, she started laughing. Inspired, he charged towards her. She screamed with delight as his body pinned hers to the wall.

            "Harry!" she exclaimed, giggling. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

            They laughed. This had been one of their favourite games as a couple. If she was still his girlfriend, they would've started kissing by now.

            But she wasn't. Harry stepped back, releasing her. Instead they exchanged grins and jogged the rest of the way to the dining hall.

            Okay, so maybe they weren't together anymore. Maybe they weren't in love with each other—at least, maybe they weren't supposed to be. But they were friends again, and this meant more to Harry than he really understood. 

            He loved her, and he always would. Sometimes it meant he was _in_ love with, sometimes it tore him up that they weren't together. Sometimes it meant he loved her as a friend, and no matter what, they'd always have each other. 

            Nothing would ever bring them apart. Ever.

**

            It was cold, colder than any normal person would've put up with. But he wasn't what you'd call normal. He was barely what you'd call a person.

            The air was frigid, and there was no hope of him starting a fire. A fire would give him and his hideout away—and after all this time, he would not let this happen.

            He sat on his stone chair is silence. Though many days had passed since he had last eaten something, hunger was the last thing on his mind. He was obsessed…beyond obsessed…

            "Soon," he said aloud. The hiss slithered around the otherwise empty room like a snake. 

            All he needed was a bit more time. A few more months. _Then_ he would strike. This time, Harry Potter would not get away. No one would be able to help him. At last, he would triumph over that Potter, and then no one would be in his way.

            Voldemort leaned back in his chair, an evil smirk spreading across his face. "Soon," he repeated.


	2. Foolish Games

Hello all! It's time for another chapter of "Home." Silly me, I can't believe I forgot to mention this—first off, the title of the story is based on a beautiful song by Ryan Malcolm, it was a great fit when I tried to come up with a song/song lyrics that summed up my story. Which brings me to point number two: each chapter is named after a song/song lyrics that fits the story (which may lead to some odd-sounding chapter titles, but oh well). However, this isn't a song fic. I think that's all I wanted to mention.

A huge thank you goes out to the following people: calista flockhart, Bethany*Katherine, slim114, JuicyJuice, Jesika-Jesika, Anasazi, kelli, BEBE and Irish Dancing Girl (Jen)—my wonderful chapter one reviewers. Thank you thanks you thank you! Sorry if I forgot anybody. 

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, who owns _everything_ Harry Potter. I don't own the song Foolish Games, it belongs to Jewel, who I am also not. 

Enough of my ramblings! Here's chapter two. Read, please review and enjoy!!

**

****

CHAPTER TWO: FOOLISH GAMES

__

\\In case you failed to notice/in case you failed to see/this is my heart, bleeding before you/this is me down on my knees/and these foolish games are tearing me apart/and your thoughtless words are breaking my heart/you're breaking my heart// +Jewel+

**

It was like ice in his blood. Before he could really let himself think about it, he stepped through the flame and through the door.

He pushed it open, expecting to see Snape. Or worse, Voldemort. But it wasn't. It was—Professor Quirrell?

But how could that be? Not Professor Quirrell! He was good, he was nice. _This doesn't make any sense!_ Harry thought desperately as he took in his surroundings.

"Harry Potter!" hissed a cold voice, body unseen. 

Harry's eyes were focused on Quirrell. Something was going on—he wasn't looking like Professor Quirrell anymore. Slowly, Quirrell's eyes turned into red, narrow slits. His frame grew taller and thinner, his fingers long and skinny. His face cold, almost featureless…except for those eyes, those familiar eyes…

Voldemort was now standing in front of Harry, his wand raised. Before Harry could blink, Voldemort lunged forward, shouting in his high-pitched voice, "Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!" Harry screamed. 

His eyes flew open, taking in a quick breath as he did so. It took a moment, but Harry realized that he wasn't in the dungeon anymore—nor had he died and gone to Heaven. No, he was in his bedroom at Hogwarts, safe and sound.

With a shaking hand, he reached over to the nightstand and put on his glasses. He was strangely relieved as he took in the familiar setting, which was glowing warmly in the golden morning sunshine. 

He sat up, trying to gather his bearings. His sheets were tangled up in a sweaty mess, but other than that, everything else looked normal.

_Get a grip, Potter,_ he reprimanded silently as he disentangled himself from his bedding. _That was six years ago, grow up already!_

Even so, Harry jumped a foot when Hermione suddenly knocked loudly on his door. "Come on, Harry! We're going to be late for breakfast!"

"Go on without me, I've just woken up," he called back, trying to return his pulse to a normal rate.

He heard her tsk and walk away from the door. Harry took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, then raced to the bathroom to have a warm shower.

**

"It was the weirdest thing, Ron," Harry said, shoveling in spoonfuls of porridge between words.

Ron screwed up his face, disgusted. "I'm sure it was, mate, but do you think you could close your mouth when eating?"

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"You're still doing it."

Harry impatiently shut his mouth and swallowed his food pointedly. "Can I talk now?"

"Of course."

"It was so strange. It started out like a flashback of our first year. Remember when we went down that trapdoor to rescue the Philosopher's Stone?"

"We thought it was Snape who stole it," Ron put in, a reminiscing smile spreading across his face. "We thought he was up to no good. Of course, six years later and we _still_ think he's up to no good."

"Anyway, when I got to Quirrell in front of the mirror of Erised, he turned into Voldemort—sorry," he said as Ron flinched—"and everything turned…different. Then Vol—You-Know-Who came at me with his wand, and before I could do anything, he did the Avada Kedavra curse. Then I woke up."

"Wow," Ron muttered, taking it all in. "Wonder what that means?"

Harry only shrugged. "No clue. It doesn't make any sense. Why would I dream about something that happened so long ago?"

"More to the point, why would you dream about You-Know-Who snuffing you with that curse?"

Harry shrugged again. "Like I said, it doesn't make any sense."

"Hmm," Ron mumbled thoughtfully as he chewed on a piece of bacon. The two friends sat in a contemplative silence for a few minutes, until Ron looked at his watch. "You do realize we're already late for Charms?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, and what's Flitwick going to do to us?" Flitwick had always been a lenient teacher, and never gave anyone—especially seventh years—any punishment for being a little tardy.

"Nothing, but I'm sure Hermione's having kittens. Imagine, being _late for class!_" Ron said, imitating Hermione. 

They laughed, and reluctantly left the dining hall to go to Charms. "Reckon I should tell anyone about the dream?" Harry asked as they walked to class.

"Nah," Ron said, shaking his head. "Unless you start having more like that, don't bother. It'll only cause unnecessary stress."

Ron was right; it would only cause more trouble than it was worth. Besides, it wasn't too uncommon for Harry to have nightmares about Voldemort—why was this one any different?

"Are you going to tell Hermione?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "You know how she is."

Hermione would not take the news too well. She'd insist on making Harry go tell the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore. Then she'd drive everyone mad trying to analyze it, and keep an annoyingly close watch on Harry every night. And if he had another dream like that…

"Good idea, mate. Mum's the word," Ron promised.

**

Hermione gave Harry and Ron a disapproving look as they took their seats. Flitwick just nodded at the boys, checked their names on the attendance sheet, and continued on writing the day's lesson on the blackboard.

Harry and Ron gave her their very best smiles, but she only frowned. 

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry whispered. "Look, Flitwick doesn't care!"

"You shouldn't take advantage of the fact that he's willing to overlook your being late," she whispered back.

"Come off it, Hermione," Ron put in. "It's no big deal. Lighten up!"

"Another thing," she continued, rounding on Harry. "You're Head Boy. You should set a good example for the younger students."

"Because the younger students know when Harry decides to come to his classes a couple minutes late?" Ron shot back.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger—silence, please," Flitwick said from the front of the classroom.

Hermione remained silent for the rest of the lesson. Harry and Ron exchanged faces and eye rolling when she pointedly ignored their whispers.

When class was over, Harry excused himself to go back to the dorms. He had a spare during second period, and usually used his free time to go back to sleep for a while. Ron and Hermione, however, both had classes.

"Come on, Hermione. Don't be mad at us," Ron said. When Hermione only grunted a reply, Ron gave her the puppy-dog look.

It worked. Eventually she smiled at him. "That's the spirit!" he said, clapping her on the back.

"How come you were late today? I know Harry woke up late this morning, did you?"

"Yeah, as usual. And Harry and me talked at breakfast for longer than normal."

"What about?"

"A dream he had," Ron answered without thinking. _Oh, damn,_ he thought a moment after.

"Really?" Hermione asked interestedly. "What happened in it?"

"Oh, you know…the usual…Cameron Diaz or someone…hey, is that Peeves over there?"

"It seemed like he was having a nightmare," Hermione mused, as if she hadn't heard Ron. "I heard him yell in his sleep before I went to go wake him up. Did he have another dream about Voldemort? Is his scar hurting? Do you think it means that Voldemort's getting ready to fight?" Hermione turned her anxious face to Ron expectantly.

"I don't know! It was something like what happened in first year, with the Philosopher's Stone."

"But—"

"I don't know, okay? Look, please don't tell anyone about this—not even Harry. He wasn't even going to tell you about it."

"What?" Hermione demanded, outraged.

_Dig up, stupid!_ Ron thought, mentally cursing himself. "Oh, look, there's my classroom. See you later, Hermione!"

With that, Ron took off, leaving Hermione rooted to her spot in anger.

**

Ron didn't mention his slip-up to Harry, who was none the wiser that Hermione was angry with him. Instead, the two boys talked Quidditch practices and strategies and which girl Ron should try for next. They never brought up the dream—in fact, it had slipped both their minds.

Not Hermione's. Oh, no, not hers. She was livid with Harry. What on earth was he thinking? His dreams about Voldemort were important. He shouldn't be keeping this information from Dumbledore.

And to plan on not telling her! After he'd already told Ron! That was stinging Hermione the most. They were supposed to be best friends, _why_ wouldn't he tell her about it?

It was because of their relationship, she knew it. That damn relationship. It had ruined everything. When they broke-up, they had promised to not keep anything from each other, that it would go back to how it used to be. But oh, no, that hadn't happened. Instead, it was still a bit awkward between them and now, he was keeping secrets from her. 

These were the thoughts running through Hermione's head all day. By the time they went to dinner, Hermione was so consumed by them, she could barely look at Harry.

"Pass the Shepherd's Pie, will you, Hermione?" Harry asked from across the table.

Hermione pushed the plate in front of him wordlessly.

"Thanks," he said, unaware anything was wrong.

Hermione said nothing. She was aware that how was behaving was completely childish, but she always dealt with her feelings that way. When she was angry with someone, she gave that person the silent treatment. It was stupid, but she didn't know how to deal with her feelings any other way.

She ate the rest of the meal in silence. Without saying anything to the boys, she got up from the table and retreated to the privacy of her common room.

She was still stewing when Harry and Ron came in a few hours later. Ron and Harry sat down at the table, pretending to be working on their homework, but they spent most of their time fooling around. When Hermione couldn't take anymore of their jokes, she snapped.

"Oh, shut it, you two!" she said. 

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "What's the matter?" Harry asked.

"Like you don't know!"

"Actually, I don't."

"Uh-oh," muttered Ron. "I'm out of here." He jumped up, gathered his books and nearly ran out of the common room. 

"Would you mind telling me what's going on?" Harry asked calmly.

His casual tone only made Hermione angrier. "Why don't you tell me? No, why _didn't_ you tell me?"

Harry looked confused. "Hermione, I don't underst—"

"The dream! I heard about your dream, Harry. Ron told me. Why on earth were you not going to tell me?"

Harry exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd panic about it. You'd tell me to go tell Dumbledore and make this big deal out of it—"

"Because it is a big deal! Harry! Dreaming about Voldemort? I'd say it's something Dumbledore should know about."

"It isn't. It's not important, it was just a stupid dream. I have these kinds of dreams all the time, and I don't run off and tell Dumbledore each time, do I?"

"Well, no, but—"

"But nothing. It was just one stupid dream. It doesn't mean anything, trust me."

"Alright, fine. It's not important. But how could you not tell me? I'm your best friend. We used to date."

"We don't anymore," Harry pointed out.

"Is _that_ what this is about?" Hermione asked, stunned. "You're not going to tell me anything anymore because I'm your ex?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "This is stupid," he muttered.

"Answer my question, Harry."

"Look, you're my friend, but you _are _my ex-girlfriend. I don't have to tell you _everything_ anymore. You lost that privilege when we broke up."

"Privilege?" Hermione echoed. "I didn't know it was such a _privilege_ for the famous Harry Potter to tell me important information about his life!" she snapped viciously.

"Don't get started on that, Hermione," Harry warned. "Besides, I was only joking."

"Alright then. How about, why could you tell one of your best friends something, but not the other?"

Harry didn't answer.

"It's because I'm your ex-girlfriend, that's why," she answered for him. "See? I knew it! I knew that once we broke-up, we wouldn't be proper friends again. And I was right."

This seemed to strike a nerve with Harry. "Fine! You were right, as always!" he shouted. "Are you happy now? You were right, I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear?"

This time, it was Hermione who didn't answer. She didn't know what to say to him. Instead, she watched him, waiting for him to say something to her. 

But he never did. After a few moments of staring back at her, Harry suddenly turned his back to her and went into his room. As soon as she heard the door close, Hermione collapsed onto the couch in a heap of tears.

It was like this a lot lately. Since they broke-up, she didn't know what to say to him half the time. Sometimes it seemed that their friendship was normal; the rest of the time, it was a real effort to go back to being just friends.

Hermione roughly wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands, then set off for her own room. As she lay in bed that night, she wondered what it was going to take to get things to be right between her and Harry once again. 

**

Ta-da! That's the end of chapter two. I hope you've enjoyed it. I also hope you will review, and I hope that you will read chapter three, which is coming soon. Thanks! 


	3. Where Are You Now?

Hello, my friends! I'm back with yet another chapter. Ok, I'll admit, I've been eating some humble pie, if you know what I mean. I only have three reviews for chapter two. I'll also admit that I was disappointed, because I've been working hard and I love this story a lot. However, I'm writing this for myself, and you all, not for reviews. That said, thank you so much to Ramy, Anasazi and SesamE ChIckEN, who did review! I appreciate it and I'm very glad you guys like it.

I'm so sorry. I apologize for the fact that I'm using a Britney Spears song for this chapter. Please, if you don't like Britney (as I don't), do not be scared away. It's one you probably haven't heard, so it shouldn't be too damaging. (If you are a fan, I'm sorry also for making fun of her)

All that aside, I must disclaim now.

_Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling (although I'm flattered by those who said I'm almost as good as her! You guys are so sweet!) nor am I Britney Spears and/or anyone else affiliated with the song._

Please read, please review, please enjoy! Thanks!!

* * *

CHAPTER THREE: WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

I can't go on/as long as I believe/can't let go/when I keep wondering/where are you now?/what have you found?/where is your heart/when I'm not around?/where are you now?/I just gotta know/so I can let you go. Britney Spears

Morning finally came. It had been an unbearably long night for Hermione, who had tossed and turned through most of it. The words exchanged during their fight played over and over in her mind, like a song stuck on repeat. Each time it started over again, Hermione cringed. Had she really said those things? Had he? Were they really not going to be proper friends anymore, or had that been said out of anger? These were the types of questions that stayed at the front of her mind while she tried to sleep.

But now it was morning. The sun had risen—it was a brand new day. She could start again today. She'd sit Harry down and talk to him in a normal manner. They'd work things out, laugh it off and go back to the pre-relationship friendship they'd had.

Hermione smiled dreamily. How nice it would be to go back to the start with him, before all of the frustration and emotions and conflicting feelings. It would be nice to have a stress-free friendship again.

Hermione nearly dozed off, but the sound of Harry moving about in the common room jolted her awake. She was going to be late for class!

She dashed around her room quickly, throwing on her uniform and robes and searching for her homework and wand. When she was ready, she hurried out of the room.

"Harry!" she shouted. Harry was on his way out to the Great Hall.

He turned around. "Yeah?" his voice was a tone frostier than usual.

"Can I talk to you later?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

She smiled at him, and felt stung when he only looked at her askance. "I'm going to skip breakfast this morning, but I'll see you in Transfiguration?"

"Yup."

"Well, bye, then."

"Bye."

Hermione frowned as she went to Arithmancy by herself. The fight had effected Harry much deeper than Hermione originally thought. He was obviously still angry with her.

Though these thoughts were not cheerful in the least, Hermione wasn't perturbed by them. They only made her that much more determined to make amends with him, once and for all.

* * *

"So, is everything okay between you and Hermione?" Ron asked at breakfast.

"No," Harry answered curtly.

"What'd you fight about, anyway?"

"The usual. Stupid stuff."

"Ah."

There was no way that he would admit it, but Harry had been affected a bit too much by the fight with Hermione. He just hated the fact that she was right: one reason why he hadn't told her about the dream—alongside with the reasons he'd told Ron—was because she was his ex.

It was stupid. Petty. Immature. But he couldn't help it; it was how he felt. He hadn't told her for many reasons: because she'd drive everyone mad, because she would mother him unnecessarily and pester him with useless advice and questions.

A part of him had done it to spite her.

Another sad part of him did it because it was a way for him to realize…to make him understand…they weren't together anymore. Some unconscious part of his brain did it as a way to say, "We're not together! You're not my girlfriend! I don't need you anymore, see?"

Harry sighed miserably, trying to get his mind off the fight. He knew they had to make-up, but in all honesty, he didn't know what it would change between them. Sure, it would make things fine between them, temporarily. They'd walk on eggshells around each other, each going out of their way to not upset the other. But in actuality, they'd be avoiding the truth of the matter, which was that neither of them were over the fact that they had both gotten their hearts broken, and that their friendship would never be the same again.

"You look pretty down, mate," Ron said.

Harry shrugged. "I'm just tired and annoyed. It's no big deal. Really," he added, when Ron looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"If you say so. Should we get going to class?"

* * *

Hermione waited quite impatiently all day for the chance to talk to Harry. It was not an easy task, trying to find a time during the day when they were both unoccupied and not surrounded by others.

Finally, at long last, Hermione seized the perfect opportunity. It was after dinner, and Harry was getting ready to spend the evening doing homework in the common room. Before he could get away and avoid her for the rest of the night, Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Can we talk now?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "Sure."

They walked outside, where they would have more privacy and a nice change of scenery. The sun was beginning to set. A slightly chilly breeze filled the cool, refreshing air.

Hermione inhaled deeply. She loved the freshness of the air. She could feel her mind getting clearer, and all the tension she had been feeling recently was beginning to edge away. Exhaling, she turned to Harry with confidence.

"I'm sorry about the fight," she said.

Harry took his time answering. "Yeah, me too."

"But, well…I had my reasons to be upset. I was really hurt that you didn't tell me."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that," Harry said. "But I still stand by what I said, I don't have to tell you everything."

"I just don't understand why, though. I mean, shouldn't you _want_ to tell me?"

Harry just shrugged.

"I hate how everything's changed between us," Hermione burst out. "I can't stand it."

"I don't like it either," he admitted. "But in all honesty, even if we make-up from this stupid fight, I don't see how it's really going to change things."

"Me neither," Hermione agreed sadly.

They stood there for a few minutes, neither saying a word. Hermione fought back her tears as she mentally summed up the situation before her.

She was at risk of losing Harry permanently. This was no where near the reconciliation she'd fantasized about all day. In fact, it was almost opposite. She suddenly felt very foolish for thinking it would turn out that perfectly.

"The reason I didn't tell you about the dream," Harry said slowly, "Is because I knew you'd worry about it. You'd be upset. And as much as I appreciate your concern, I don't need it."

Hermione nodded briskly. The comment was like a slap in the face, but she didn't say so. After all, though the words had been harsh, his tone wasn't.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

Hermione nodded again.

"I promise, if I have more dreams like that, I'll tell you straight away."

Hermione nodded for a third time. "Okay," she said, finding her voice. "Thank you."

"So, are things…?"

"Yeah."

Harry gave her a small smile. Impulsively, Hermione reached up and hugged him. His arms closed around her protectively, and for a moment, she felt okay again.

He broke up the embrace then. "I should get started on my homework if I want to practice Quidditch tomorrow. Coming?"

"No, I think I'll stay out here for a few minutes. I like the fresh air."

"Alright. See you inside, then."

"Bye." She watched him disappear into the castle, then slowly sank down to the cold grass.

She sat out there for a quarter of an hour, just thinking. It was time, she realized, to get back to reality: things had changed, and they were going to stay that way, no matter how much she hated it.

Finally she got up and went back to the castle, ready to start on her work. She dawdled through the entranceway, where something unusual happened.

"What's the matter, Granger?" asked a voice.

Startled, Hermione looked around and saw Draco Malfoy to her right.

"Why do you care?" she asked coldly. Malfoy had been her enemy—along with being Harry's and Ron's, of course—since their very first year at Hogwarts. He was a pure-blood Slytherin, which meant that he came from a family of wizards and was in the Hogwarts house that turned out the largest amount of dark wizards, including Voldemort himself.

Malfoy was the cruelest person Hermione knew. He was conceited, abrasive and, basically, heartless. He picked on Hermione ruthlessly, just because she was Muggle-born. He personally did all in his power to try to make Harry's life, first and foremost, a living hell. When he was not successful, he moved on to Ron and Hermione.

This is why she couldn't understand why he was speaking to her. Although he had been rather subdued since his father was sent to prison two years ago, he had not toned down his cruel antics.

"I don't _care_, Granger," Malfoy replied in his lazy drawl. "You look upset and I was just curious, that's all."

Hermione looked around the mostly-empty room. "Okay, where are Crabbe and Goyle?" she demanded.

"What?" Malfoy asked, looking confused.

"Where are they? This has got to be some sort of trap, hasn't it?" she asked.

"What makes you say that?"

"Why do you think?" she retorted. "Maybe because we hate each other, and you're always setting me and Harry and Ron up for some sort of trick or scheme."

Malfoy rolled his grey eyes in annoyance. "I think we're all beyond that, Granger."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're older now. We're more mature than those stupid tricks we played on each other."

Hermione snorted. "I don't believe that."

"You're right," Malfoy mused. "Potter and Weasley aren't more mature than that. Relax," he added, seeing Hermione's reaction. "I was only kidding…mostly," he said with a smirk.

Now it was Hermione who rolled her eyes.

"Are you ever going to answer my question?"

"Yes, and the answer is, none of your business. Even if I wanted to tell you, I wouldn't. I don't trust you."

"Why don't you try me? You might be surprised."

"For someone who doesn't care, Malfoy, you're awfully interested in what I have to say."

Malfoy shrugged. "Things change," he said simply.

Hermione tried to ignore the fact that that was the thing bothering her. "I suppose they do," she said.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me, I guess I'm just wasting my time, so I'll be on my way."

"Wait," she said suddenly. She was as surprised as he was.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"I'll tell you some other time…maybe," she added uncertainly.

"Looking forward to it." Hermione couldn't tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic, but she didn't bother to ask. Instead, she wondered what would happen if she opened up to Draco Malfoy.

* * *

That's it for now! I hope you enjoyed it, I liked writing the interaction between Malfoy and Hermione. Chapter four is coming soon, so keep an eye out for it. Please review! Thanks! 


	4. Trying

* * *

Hi everyone! I'm back. Just in time for Harry Potter 3. Are you excited? I am!! I simply cannot wait to see the movie. My excitement is barely in check, and I have to wait for a few more days. A very happy Memorial Day goes out to the American fans. As I'm Canadian, I don't celebrate Memorial Day, but even so, Happy Memorial Day. Hope you are all enjoying your day off and are, er, memorializing, if there's such an activity (or word).

Anyway, I'm back with my fourth chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. It came out a few days later than anticipated, but that's my fault, due to laziness. It's a wee bit shorter than the previous and upcoming chapters, but nevertheless, it's important to the story.

Thank you very much to Ramy, peachie1st, Jesika-Jesika and Jen, who reviewed chapter three. I'm glad you are enjoying it!!

Disclaimers: I am not J.K. Rowling (though I pretend to be), or Warner Brothers or anyone else who owns Harry Potter. I'm not Lifehouse, either, whose song is the chapter song this round. I wish I owned it, because it's an awesome song, but I don't. I don't own anything, really.

On with the story! Please read and review! Thanks!!!

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR: TRYING

_Well let me be the first to say I don't have a clue/don't have all the answers/ain't gonna pretend like I do/just trying/to find my way/trying/to find my way the best that I know how_

Lifehouse

* * *

"You will join me, Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed.

"Never!" Harry shouted out. He needed to make a run for it—but when?

"Together, we could have a power greater than time has ever known. All you have to do is give me the Philosopher's Stone."

"No," Harry said determinedly.

"Don't be foolish, boy," Voldemort warned with more malice than usual in his voice. "Hand it over to me before it's too late, or you'll face the same fate as your parents did."

Harry said nothing. He did not even dare to blink.

"You have made your choice, then. You'll be seeing your Mudblood mother any moment now." Voldemort raised his wand. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"NO!" Harry shouted.

A soft thud suddenly woke Harry up. He blinked quickly several times and realized what had happened. He had had another dream, and the thud was him falling out bed.

Feeling slightly ashamed for not being able to stay in bed while sleeping, Harry got up from the floor. As he stood over his mattress, the pain hit him.

Out of nowhere, his scar began to burn. Harry dropped to his knees, his hands pressed up against his scar as tightly as possible. It felt as though his scar was on fire, and the heat was beginning to expand to the rest of his head. He yelled out in pain.

"Harry? Harry, what's going on? Are you alright?" he heard Hermione ask from outside his door.

He tried to reply, but another surge of pain spread across his scar. He yelled through his pain again.

The door swung open. Hermione came running in, still wearing her nightgown. "Harry! What's the matter?"

The pain finally began to subside. "My scar's hurting," he managed through gritted teeth.

"Was it another dream?"

"Yes."

Hermione started wringing her hands. "What should I do? Do you want me to get someone?" she asked, distressed.

"No. Don't. It's—it's getting better."

Hermione fretted about anxiously for a few more minutes, until Harry released his hands from his head. His scar was throbbing dully.

"Are you okay now?" she asked.

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt anymore." Harry got up from the floor, put on his glasses and sat back down on the bed. "It was like my last dream. I was in my first year, in the dungeon, trying to escape from Voldemort with the Philosopher's Stone. He was trying to convince me to give me the stone so that we could have some sort of power together, but I refused. When he knew I wasn't going to give him the stone, he killed me."

They were both quiet for a moment. Then, "I think you should tell Dumbledore about the dream, Harry."

Harry sighed. He didn't want to involve the Headmaster, but it seemed like he had no choice. If he didn't tell him, Hermione would. Besides, it was something Dumbledore ought to know. "You're right. I'll tell him during my spare."

"Good. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry so much."

"I'll try."

* * *

Draco Malfoy watched across the dining hall that morning. He watched her sit down beside that Potter, across from Weasley. He watched as she buttered some toast and drank a goblet of juice.

With a swaggering smile, he recalled the previous day. It had been such a great opportunity. Too perfect, really.

When he had told her that he didn't care, he had been lying. He most certainly did care.

A lot.

* * *

Harry grudgingly waited outside Dumbledore's office later that morning. He was usually back in his bed by now, but his promise to talk to the Headmaster had forced him to stand outside his office, feeling foolish.

When he had requested to meet with the Headmaster just after breakfast, he was told to wait outside his office at 10:30. Well, it was now 10:40, and no one was in sight. Harry promised himself he'd wait for ten more minutes before he gave up. He was determined to get this out of the way as quickly as possible.

Not even five minutes later, Dumbledore came striding around the corner. "Harry," he greeted warmly. "I apologize for making you wait past our appointment, but there was a matter with Peeves I had to deal with."

"It's alright," Harry said, anxious to get started. "Professor, I wanted to tell you about—"

This was as far as he got. Dumbledore raised his right hand as a way of silencing him. Then, after muttering the password, the door swung open.

The two walked up the spiral staircase and into Dumbledore's grand office. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, folded his long fingers neatly and watched, waiting, for Harry to continue.

"I asked to meet with you because of…well, because of these dreams I've been having," Harry began, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Last night, and a few nights ago, I've dreamt that I was in my first year, with the Philosopher's Stone, and Voldemort's trying to convince me to join his side. And in both dreams, he's used the killing curse."

Dumbledore leaned back in thought. "I see," he said, more to himself than to Harry. "Most interesting. Tell me, Harry, are these dreams true to your experience in first year?"

"More or less."

"But no new information has been revealed."

"Right."

"And in these dreams, Voldemort kills you?"

Harry paused. He was about to say yes, when another thought struck him. "Actually, Professor, he's never really killed me. I always wake up right after he says the incantation."

"Interesting," Dumbledore murmured.

"What do you think it means? The dreams."

"I'm afraid I do not know, Harry. And, unfortunately, since these dreams seem to be recollections of the past, there is little we can do about them, if anything."

Harry frowned. He'd been hoping Dumbledore would come up with a great explanation for them.

"I suggest, Harry, that you pay close attention to your dreams from now on. Try and keep track of any information that could be classified as helpful in our battle against Voldemort." He gave Harry a small smile.

Harry stood up. "I just thought you should know…just in case…"

"I'm glad you told me. If you have more dreams like that, please do not hesitate to come tell me. Your dreams may prove to be invaluable sometime."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry let himself out of the office, feeling downcast. Dumbledore had not offered neither explanation nor solution about the dreams, and he would now spend several minutes each morning trying to remember every detail about each dream he had.

As he walked off to his next class, Harry's scar began to throb dully. _Should I have told Dumbledore that my scar hurt this morning?_ he wondered, running his fingers across it.

No, he reasoned,_it probably only hurt because the dream was so realistic_, he told himself. _Or something like that. Anyway, even if that's not the case, Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to explain it, either._

_

* * *

_

It was against every fiber of Hermione's being to not ask Harry how he was feeling. She was very concerned about him, but she was painfully aware of the fact that her inquiries would push Harry farther away from her than he already was.

"So, have you decided to tell me, Granger?" hissed a voice her in ear. She jumped a foot and turned around.

"Malfoy!" she gasped, putting her hand over her heart, which was beating quickly. "You startled me."

"Didn't mean to," he said. "Off to the library, are you?"

"Yes," she answered tersely. "I am."

"That's what I thought, so I'm offering you the chance at the pleasure of my company."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Some pleasure that would be," she said dryly. "Look, Malfoy. I don't know what got into me yesterday, but I might have been delusional to even _think_ about telling you my personal problems."

"That's what you say now, Granger."

"Yes, I'm saying it now, and I'll say it always. Now, do you mind? I've got to go to the library."

She set off, very much aware of the fact that he was following her. She tried to ignore him, but as she reached to open the door to the library, she turned around.

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

"Going to the library," Malfoy said with a shrug. "Believe it or not, you're not the only person at this school who uses it."

Hermione didn't have a response to this. Instead, she turned around and went inside, and in hopes that he would lose her, Hermione quickly walked away from Malfoy.

She found Harry and Ron, whom she'd arranged to meet there in the first place. She took her usual place—beside Harry, across from Ron—and prepared to push Malfoy from her mind.

No such luck. "Thought you'd got away from me, didn't you?" came his whispered drawl a minute later. He sat down beside Ron.

"What's _he_ doing here?" snarled Ron.

Hermione could feel Harry's eyes on her. "He followed me," she said, talking to the table.

"Did you ask him to come?" Harry asked, his voice strange.

"No, I invited myself," Malfoy explained, opening his books. "Of course, that was before I knew you two would be here."

"Well, you're not welcome, so shove off," Ron said.

Malfoy ignored Ron. He simply began to make notes for his Advanced Potions class. He wrote carelessly, paying no attention to the glares from Harry and Ron.

"Hermione, what's going on?" Harry whispered into her ear.

"I told you, he followed me here," she replied.

"Oh, but you wanted me to," Malfoy said, not looking up from his notes.

"She didn't."

"I think she did, Potter."

"Why would she want you to? She hates you. We all do," Ron said, not keeping his voice down.

"You're wrong, Weasley. Granger doesn't hate me. On the contrary, she likes me. Isn't that right, Granger?" He finally looked up from his books to give her that trademark smirk.

"Hermione?" Harry looked at her questioningly. He was trying to find out if what Malfoy said was true.

She didn't know. She didn't have an answer for either of them. Instead, she slid off her chair and ran out of the library.

* * *

Don't worry, my friends, this will all make sense in the ending. I'm trying (hehe sorry, didn't actually mean to do that, honest!) to have a story in which stuff that's a tish bit unclear at the time will make more sense when it's done and is read again. In the meantime, I hope you liked it. Chapter 5 is coming soon. Please review!! Thanks!


	5. Why Don't You and I

Hello again, my good friends. How is everybody? Who saw Prisoner of Azkaban? What did everyone think of it? I saw it and thought it was awesome. I loved it—the best movie yet. If you haven't seen it, please do.

Anyway, I'm back with another chapter. Yay! My reason of delay: I'm trying to write as much as possible before posting chapters, basically so I don't post chapter five (for example) then sit down and start chapter six, which is partly why my previous story took forever to finish. Since I'm starting my new job on Monday, I will have less time to write. But have no fear, I'll be writing during the evenings and weekends.

A big thank you to BethanyKatherine (aka BK), SesamE ChIckEN, Anasazi, Ramy and Jesika-Jesika, who reviewed chapter four. You guys are so awesome; it makes my day when I read such nice things! You are the best—all of you! It keeps me going when I see the reviews. I really love this story (if I do say so myself…) and it makes me happy to know that other people are liking it too. So thanks!

Disclaimers: I'm not J.K. Rowling, which is a shame (although she wouldn't agree with me). Nor am I Carlos Santana and/or Chad Kroeger who is Canadian and from Nickleback and is, therefore, very cool.

Ok, I'm done with the pre-chapter ramblings. Please read, please review and mostly, please enjoy!

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE: WHY DON'T YOU & I

Why don't you and I get together/take on this world and be together forever/heads we win/tails we'll try again/so I say/why don't you and I get together/sail past the moon and straight on to Heaven/'cause without you/they're never gonna let me in

Carlos Santana & Chad Kroeger

* * *

Harry lay still in his bed that night, staring at the ceiling. He was still bewildered at what had happened earlier in the day.

Hermione and Malfoy! It seemed impossible. Harry didn't understand, no matter how much or how hard he tried, what had gotten into her. Okay, so maybe Malfoy did follow her to the library without invitation, but she hadn't told him to leave. She didn't deny liking him, either. What did that mean?

All that aside, the thing that was bothering him the most was the fact that it was _Malfoy_. If Hermione had liked someone else, sure, Harry would still be upset. It was only natural. But Malfoy! Of all people. It seemed like a personal insult. Malfoy, who was for everything Harry was fighting against, with his Hermione.

_Malfoy with Hermione. Not _my _Hermione, just Hermione. _Harry quickly tried to backpedal in his own mind.

He rolled over onto his stomach. _Just forget about it for now,_ he commanded himself. _She never said she liked him. She didn't invite him to sit with us. He was just being…Malfoy. He's just up to something, as usual. So forget it and go to sleep._

Easier said than done, of course. Eventually, though, Harry drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Granger! Wait up!" shouted Malfoy.

It was late in the afternoon the next day. Hermione was outside, sitting in the same place where she and Harry had had their talk a few days ago. She was avoiding Ron, who bombarded her with questions with every chance he got and she was avoiding Harry, who was unsuccessfully acting like he wasn't bothered by what had happened yesterday. She'd also been trying to avoid Malfoy, but it seemed her luck had run out.

"What do you want?" she snapped as he sat down across from her.

"Nice way to greet a friend," he shot back.

"A friend? I wouldn't consider you a friend, Malfoy."

"Oh, that'll change," he said in an annoyingly superior way.

"What do you _want_ from me, Malfoy?" Hermione burst out. "Why, after years of torturing me and hating my guts are you suddenly acting like this?"

"Acting like what?" he asked innocently.

"_This._ Like you want to be my friend or something. I don't get it. And furthermore, I don't get why you won't give up on this. Clearly, I want nothing to do with you. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

For the first time since they had known each other, Malfoy was speechless. He looked at her for a few moments, then dropped his gaze to the grass. Yet in that brief glance, she noticed something. Instead of his cold, grey eyes being full of malice, they seemed full of—hurt?

"If you want to know the truth, it's because I've always been sort of drawn to you," he said quietly. "Since third year, when you slapped me across the face? Something changed. I guess I saw you differently, or something, and I kind of…_liked_ it. If you tell anyone this, I'll hex you," he added severely.

Hermione didn't know what to say. "I had no idea."

"Well, that was the point, wasn't it? I'm not supposed to like people like you."

"Muggle-borns."

"Yeah. My father always told me he'd disown me if I ever liked a Mudbl—er, Muggle-born. That's why I pretended I hated you."

"Okay," she said, trying to take this all in. "So why the change? How come you don't care about that anymore?"

Malfoy shrugged. "It's our last year here, I probably won't ever see you again after June. Besides, my dad's not around, my mother's too distraught to care, and…and I just thought that maybe we could be," he paused, then lowered his voice, "friends."

"Friends," she echoed.

"Or something."

This last statement was a little surprising, but Hermione decided not to question it. Instead, she brought up something that was holding her back from accepting his offer.

"I still don't know, Malfoy. You haven't proven that I can trust you, and I can't just forget all that's happened between us in the last six years."

"You haven't given me chance to prove you can trust me," he pointed out. "I gave you an opportunity, but you didn't take it. And about everything that happened before—it's in the past now, okay?"

Hermione sat thoughtfully for a while. If he was being serious, she had nothing to lose, and a friend to gain. However, if he was lying about it…

_If he's lying about it, so what? Whatever he's trying to pull is not going to work, because I won't let him get too close. I'm going to be smart about this,_ she decided.

"So…" Malfoy waited expectantly.

"Alright. We can be friends," she said at last. "But this is your one chance. If you break my trust for whatever reason, Malfoy, that's it."

"Sounds fair," he said easily.

"Shake on it." It had meant to be a question, but had come out as a demand. Even so, Malfoy extended his hand without resistance. They shook.

"I think we're good enough friends that you can call me Draco now."

"Only if you call me Hermione."

"Alright."

"No more of this 'Mudblood' nonsense."

"Okay."

"And you have to be nice to Harry and Ron from now on."

"Whoa, one step at a time, Hermione."

She couldn't help it. She laughed.

* * *

Ron frowned as he sat next to Harry in Transfiguration. He had just witnessed Hermione chatting up with none other than Draco Malfoy. Strangely, she hadn't seemed to mind chatting with him. Even more strangely, neither had he. It was almost as if they _liked_ each other.

"Impossible," Ron mumbled.

"What is?" Harry asked.

Ron flushed slightly. He hadn't meant to speak aloud. "Oh…" he began, then stopped. Should he tell Harry? He would be pretty angry with this news. On the other hand, Harry was his best friend, and Ron wasn't normally one to hold anything back. "It's Hermione. She's chatting up with Malfoy outside."

"She's what?"

"She's talking to Malfoy, and it seems to be going well."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "But that's impossible, they hate each other. We all hate Malfoy."

"I know. I don't understand what's gotten into her."

"Me neither."

"Do you think that there's something going on between them?" Ron asked.

Harry considered this. "I doubt it. It's Malfoy and Hermione we're talking about. She definitely wouldn't do that to…she's smarter than that."

Ron was positive that Harry had almost said, "She definitely wouldn't do that to me," but he decided—and quite wisely, he thought—not to question it. Instead, he replied, "I hope you're right."

Their discussion was put to an end when Hermione came into the classroom. Both boys studied her face carefully, but she remained rather impassive.

"What?" she asked defensively. She was aware of their intense stares.

Ron opened his mouth, ready to let her have it, when Professor McGonagall walked in. The lesson was about to begin.

_Lucky for you,_ Ron thought darkly, casting a long glance at Hermione. She ignored him. Though Ron generally tired to remain neutral between his friends' spats, he would probably be siding with Harry on this one, if what he saw meant what he thought it did.

_She better not be getting friendly with Malfoy,_ he thought. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if she did.

* * *

Malfoy couldn't wipe the smirk off his face. Everything he had wanted to happen did. He'd finally gotten through to Hermione. They were going to be friends. And, if he was really as good as he said he was, they'd end up _more_ than friends.

He knew he could never break her trust. If, for whatever reason he did, it would all be over. He'd have blown it.

He wasn't going to blow it, he made sure of that.

* * *

The following days proved to be very interesting. Draco was adamant on making sure that Hermione trusted him, although he did this selectively.

He'd told her that not everyone could know about their being friends. If the Slytherins caught wind of this, he said, he'd lose all the respect the others held for him. Hermione didn't particularly care what the Slytherins thought, but as it was important to Draco, she went along with it.

Hermione was a little apprehensive about telling Harry and Ron that she actually liked Draco now. They'd be furious. They probably wouldn't speak to her—and really, how could she not blame them? A small part of her brain was telling her that being friends with Draco would only bring more bad than good into her life.

But she ignored it. She pushed it to the back of her mind, refusing to listen to it.

Since Draco had to hold face in the classes they shared, their time together was rather limited. So, most nights after dinner, they'd meet outside. Sometimes they sat on the grass; otherwise, they walked around the lake.

Hermione found she quite enjoyed this part of the day. She easily talked to Draco about her everything in her life. He was constantly making her laugh with his little sarcastic comments. Strangely enough, these were the same types of comments which once would have made her roll her eyes and say how horrible he was.

Not anymore.

One particular evening, after her walk with Draco, she returned to the common room with a smile on her face.

"Where've you been?" Harry greeted.

"Out," she replied airily. "I went for a walk."

"With Malfoy?"

"Yes. With Draco," she corrected.

"Hermione, what do you think you're doing?" he yelled.

"Excuse me?"

"Hanging out with Malfoy night after night? Defending him when Ron and I talk about him? Please don't tell me that you like him," Harry said.

"I do like him. He's turning out to be a really good friend," she replied, slipping into defense mode.

"But do you _like_ him?" he inquired.

"Why do you care?" she retorted, purposely dodging his question.

"Why do I care?" he repeated, stunned. "Have you forgotten everything he and his family have done to us for the last six years? Do you not remember that he's on the other side, that he supports Voldemort?"

"He doesn't. Not anymore. He told me he's never really supported Voldemort, and that his father pushed him into it."

"That's a load of crap, Hermione," Harry said loudly. "And you know it."

"Apparently, I don't. Look, Draco's my friend now. Deal with it."

"You're making a huge mistake."

"Oh, like you'd know," she said hotly. "Contrary to what you think, Harry, you don't know everything about me. You don't know everything that's going on in my life."

"I know enough to realize how stupid you're being about this," he said, looking as angry as she felt.

"No, you _don't_. I'm staying out of all your business, Harry. I think you should do the same for me." With that, she went to her room.

* * *

Harry was angry. With Hermione, with Malfoy, with the world, pretty much. He was watching her make a huge mistake, and it killed him. There was no way he was going to trust her with Malfoy. Despite the request she'd made, he wasn't going to stay out of her business. He couldn't.

He saw an opportunity to intervene just a few days later. While walking solo down a corridor, he saw Malfoy coming towards him. For once, Malfoy's cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, where nowhere in sight.

"Malfoy," he called out as the other boy drew closer.

"What is it, Potter?" Malfoy asked, looking at him with intense dislike. They both stopped, standing face to face.

Harry suddenly seized Malfoy by the front of his robes. For a split second, he could see fear in Malfoy's eyes. Then it vanished.

"If you ever hurt Hermione," Harry said, teeth gritted, "I _will_ come after you."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my cloak," Malfoy said sarcastically.

"I mean it."

"Sadly, I know you do. But you have nothing to worry about, Potter. And plainly, neither do I," he added, his smirk creeping onto his face. "So why don't you let me go before you get yourself into trouble?"

Harry released Malfoy. He roughly pushed him out of his way, and walked on.

* * *

Not much time had passed, but to Voldemort, it seemed like an eternity. It wasn't that he disliked his hideout. No, it suited his needs perfectly, actually.

It was the waiting that was getting to him. The year stretched out ahead of him, and the ending of it seemed like a distant horizon.

He was beyond obsessed, whatever that could mean. The only thing he did was replay his plan over and over again. Each time, he won. He was victorious.

And that was all due to the newest element to the plan. It also happened to be the most crucial.

You see, with a little help from the outside world, Voldemort knew what was going on with Harry Potter. Harry was constantly being watched without even knowing it.

This information was pivotal, because it also gave Voldemort an insight to the people who mattered most to Harry. And this was key.

With this information, Voldemort would be able to bring Potter to himself. And he didn't care who he stepped on before he reached that goal.

* * *

So there you have it, chapter five. It was fun to write. I'm surprised it turned out this long, to be honest, but it's all important to the story. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please review! Look for chapter six, coming soon. 


	6. October Skies

Chapter six has arrived! (Parade music here) I'm such a lazy girl. Work is tiresome (not to mention hilarious, but we'll talk about that some other time!), and when I get home I just kinda chill out all night. By the time I decide to write the latest chapter, I think, "Or maybe I should go to bed." (Bed always wins!) But alas, I stepped up and posted this chapter, and guess what? I'm done chapter seven, started chapter eight and am re-thinking my entire story plan to squeeze in one extra chapter.

It's funny, actually. I was so scared that this chapter would be the shortest yet. I thought I'd only get 3, 4 pages tops on this chapter. But it ended up being nine. Huh. Imagine that…

Anyway, yes. Here's chapter six! A big thank you to Jesika-Jesika, Anasazi, BethanyKatherine (haha your review was funny! Yes, it's Hedwig, how'd you know? hehehe), danielerin, Nightwing509 and Ramy, who were awesome enough to review chapter five. Thanks!!

Disclaimers: I'm not J.K. Rowling, so I don't own Harry Potter and anything Harry Potter-related. This is all just for fun! I'm also not Ryan Malcolm (I love him!), so I don't own the song, either. Sorry.

So that's it! Please read, review and enjoy!!!

* * *

CHAPTER SIX: OCTOBER SKIES

You don't have to be afraid/as long as I'm with you/we'll make our escape/everywhere I go/on this open road/I'll always be with you/right here by your side/our love will never die/your colours come alive/underneath October skies.

Ryan Malcolm

* * *

A few weeks later

September finally faded away into October. Everyone at Hogwarts had finally settled into his or her daily routine, counting down the days until the Great Feast at Halloween. For the third and above years, it also signified the first trip of the year to Hogsmeade.

One particular afternoon, just about two weeks until Halloween, Harry wanted to approach Hermione about something. It was hard to find the time to speak to her, though, because she was spending most of her spare time with Draco Malfoy.

He found his chance, in that small stretch of time between the final class of the day and dinner. Hermione was reading a fat textbook on the couch.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Are we _ever_ going to sit down and talk about careers?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "You want to do that?" she asked, taken aback.

He didn't, to be honest. He just wanted to make his point. "Well," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I _assumed_ we'd do it sooner rather than later. Looks like I was wrong."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'd completely forgotten about that," Hermione said, biting her lip and looking guilty.

"I've noticed."

She glanced at her watch. "We've got a bit of time before dinner, why don't you and I—"

"No, that's okay," he said quickly.

Hermione frowned. "I'd say we could do it after dinner, but I've already made plans."

"With _Draco_?" Harry asked, saying the name sarcastically.

"If you must know, yes. I've got plans with Draco," she replied haughtily.

"You have plans with him every night."

"Not every night—"

"Fine, every other night."

"What's your point?" she snapped. "So I'm spending a lot of time with him. We're friends now."

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance. He couldn't believe she was still buying that lame excuse! "He's up to something. I know he is."

Hermione slammed her book shut. "Will you give that a rest already?" she said, her voice rising. "He's got no ulterior motives, he just wants to be my friend."

"Fine. If you want to keep believing that, that's just fine. Don't come crying to me when he screws you over, though."

"Lucky for me, I won't have to, because it's not going to happen. He's changed, Harry, and you just don't want to admit it. But it's nice to know I have your support," she added sarcastically.

The two would've continued to glare at each other for the rest of the night, but luckily, Ron came into the room at that very moment.

"Hey, you two. Ready for dinner?" Ron looked expectantly from one to the other.

Hermione gave Harry one final glare before she opened her book again. "I don't know if I want to go to dinner tonight. I've lost my appetite."

Ron sighed. "Okay, what happened this time?"

"Harry's just jealous that I'm friends with Draco," Hermione answered waspishly.

"Hermione's just upset because I've told her she's making a mistake and doesn't want to admit that I'm right," Harry shot back.

"If that's all it is, then," Ron said cheerily. Harry shot him a lethal look that Ron could not ignore. "Look, you two, I'm sick of all this fighting all the time. You're making it unpleasant to hang out with you. Both of you are," he added pointedly.

Harry could sympathize. When Hermione and Ron used to bicker constantly, it sometimes became unpleasant to be with them. "Sorry, mate," Harry mumbled.

"I'm sorry too," Hermione said.

"Good. Now, who's hungry?"

"I am," Harry volunteered. "Let's go."

"Hermione, you coming?" Ron asked.

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'll see you after dinner, maybe."

A thousand retorts and comebacks popped into Harry's head, but he willed them away. Instead, he said tightly, "alright," and led Ron to the Great Hall.

* * *

Ron hated seeing his best friends so mad at each other, but he knew there wasn't anything he could do. He knew better than anyone—better than Harry and Hermione themselves—that the only way to stop the fighting was for them to get back together.

It was an unlikely thing to happen, but Ron just couldn't understand why. When they were together, they were happier than Ron had ever seen them. Since they had been apart, he had never seen either of them more miserable. It was very frustrating for Ron, as an outsider to the whole mess, to see a perfect solution to the problem but not be able to do anything about it.

The boys sat down to the small feast. They ate hungrily, not able to say anything to each other, what with all the food stuffed in their mouths. Too full to eat dessert just then, Harry and Ron decided to relax at the table for a few minutes.

"What's all this nonsense about you and Hermione fighting?" Ron asked, although he was pretty sure he knew.

"Her and Malfoy," Harry said bitterly. "Did you know she spends almost every single night with him?"

"Doing what?" Ron wondered.

"Who knows? When I ask, she just changes the subject."

"Hmm," Ron said thoughtfully. "Do you reckon that maybe she fancies him?" he asked carefully.

Harry snorted. "No, of course not," he said. But in his eyes, he looked worried.

* * *

The first trip to Hogsmeade grew nearer, and as it did, so did everyone's excitement. While Harry didn't see the thrill of Hogsmeade anymore, he took any opportunity he could to get away from the castle, even if was only for a few hours.

He and Hermione were still walking on eggshells around each other, but they had spoken to each other civilly since their last argument. Hermione didn't bring up Malfoy; Harry didn't ask.

Still, he thought Hogsmeade would be a perfect opportunity to set things right with her. They would have the full day to themselves, as Ron was taking Parvati Patil into town. And Harry would make sure to mention it would just be them—meaning, Malfoy wasn't welcome.

"Hey, 'Mione," he asked a few nights before Hogsmeade. "Can I come in?" He was hovering outside her bedroom.

"Of course. Is anything wrong?" she asked. She was sitting on her bed, reading from a book and making notes on parchment.

"Nothing's the matter," he assured her. He perched carefully on the bed, not wanting to upset the bottle of ink balanced next to the parchment. "But I was wondering, are you going to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah, probably. I mean, it's not that exciting anymore, but it's always nice to get away from here every once in a while, isn't it?"

"Actually, I was just thinking the same thing. I thought that maybe you'd like to go with me."

Hermione smiled. "I'd love to."

"I know things have been sort of weird between us lately, and I thought maybe if we went to Hogsmeade by ourselves we could…you know."

"Try to make things better?" she suggested.

"Exactly."

"That's a great idea, Harry. We could definitely use some time together."

He grinned. "I should let you get back to work, so I'll see you in the morning?"

"As always," she said with a smile. "Thanks, Harry. Good-night."

"Night." Harry quietly shut the door to her room as he left. He felt quite pleased with himself. For the first time in a long time, something was actually going right between them.

* * *

After Harry had asked her to accompany him to Hogsmeade, Hermione was elated. For the first time since the beginning of the school year, they seemed to be getting along once more. After weeks of fighting, of frustrations and agony, they were friendly with each other.

Of course, while she knew it was stupid, Hermione couldn't help but feel like he had asked her on an actual date. He hadn't, but she just couldn't get it out of her mind.

Right after Harry left her room, she shut her books and closed her eyes dreamily. She could remember the details of their first date very well: He had asked her to Hogsmeade. Hermione could recall how nervous he had been when he asked her. He had stumbled over his words and turned red, but he'd managed to finally spit it out, and she'd accepted in a heartbeat.

It had been a little awkward at first, but they were both pleased when they walked through the village holding hands. They had been even more pleased when they shared a good-bye kiss at the end of the date. Their first kiss.

"Okay, enough of that," Hermione said aloud. She mentally shook herself, trying to erase her thoughts. Grudgingly, she opened her books and returned to her work—and reality.

* * *

Malfoy smiled to himself as he spotted Hermione coming down to breakfast alone. She was often with Potter and Weasley, and therefore he usually didn't get time to talk to her before classes started.

He got up from the Slytherin table, crossed the Great Hall and stood across from Hermione. "A word, Granger?" he asked coldly. He sat down without waiting for a reply.

"Sorry about that," he said in a lowered voice. "Just in case someone was listening..."

"I understand," Hermione said with a nod. "So, what do you want? And be quick about it, Harry and Ron are on their way down."

"Don't you find it odd that they never go anywhere without each other?" Malfoy said. "Doesn't that make you wonder?"

"Is _that_ what you wanted to ask me?" she said incredulously.

"No, no. I was just wondering…anyway, you're going to Hogsmeade, right?"

"Yes, I'm going—"

"Good. You can go with me, then."

Hermione stared at him for a minute. "Go with you?" she repeated.

"Yes," he said, a little impatiently. "It would be called a date."

"A date? You're asking me out?"

"Yes."

"_You_ are asking _me _out, on a date."

"Yes!" he nearly shouted, exasperated.

"Wow. I'd love to, Draco, but the thing is, I said I'd go with Harry."

Malfoy had not been expecting that. "You're going out with Potter?"

"Not going _out_ with. We're just going to Hogsmeade together."

"But you're just friends."

"Yes, but—"

"Then just tell him you were asked for a proper date, and you want to go on it. He'll understand."

Hermione made a face. "I don't know, Draco, I did promise I'd go with him."

"Un-promise, then. I'm asking you on a real date, Hermione. Don't you want to go out with me?" It was a bold thing to ask, and he knew it. He just didn't care.

Hermione sat in silence for a moment, then began to blush. "Yes."

Malfoy worked hard to keep the smirk off his face. "Go out with me."

Hermione's blush deepened. "Alright. Yes, I'd love to go out with you."

This time, he couldn't help but smirk. "Okay then. I'll meet you in the entrance hall with everyone on the day of Hogsmeade." He rose from his seat, then leaned forward to her, whispering in her ear. "You were wrong. I said we'd be more than friends, and you said we wouldn't. Looks like I was right after all." In a quick but gentle movement, he ran his index finger across her cheek before straightening up.

"See you later, Granger," he said. Flashing her one final smirk, he stalked out of the Great Hall.

* * *

Hermione tried to hide the fact that she was trembling. Her heart was beating quickly, and the spot on her cheek Draco had touched was practically pulsating. Trying not to look too out of sorts, she began to nibble on a piece of toast.

Draco had asked her out! They were actually going on a date! Who could ever imagined this? Certainly not Hermione.

During the time they had been spending together, she couldn't help these feelings that were growing. Naturally, she tried to ignore them and will them away, but they prospered. Soon, she had to admit that she had feelings for Draco Malfoy, her ex-enemy.

Though it seemed strange, Hermione was grateful that she was capable of having romantic feelings towards anyone that wasn't Harry—albeit, with a strange twist. She never comprehended that she would ever like Draco.

But she did. And now, she was going out with him.

The only thing holding her back from squealing at the top of her lungs was the thought of Harry's face when she broke her promise to him, only to go on a date with his nemesis.

* * *

Harry was none the wiser about Hermione and Malfoy until much later that day. In fact, it was practically the next day did Hermione tell him. Prior to that, he spent most of the evening with Ron, trying to come up with a perfect Quidditch practice schedule.

"Maybe you're right. We ought to stay back from Hogsmeade and practice," Harry said with a frown.

"There's no better time. No one else will be practicing, they'll all be at Hogsmeade."

"Which is where I'm supposed to be with Hermione," Harry groaned. He was really looking forward to his day with her. "But you're right."

"Glad you agree," Ron said. He snatched the quill away from Harry and scribbled a few notes down.

"Hang on. Aren't you supposed to be taking Parvati to Hogsmeade?"

Ron's ears turned red. "About that…" he began, but never finished.

"What, did she you chuck you?"

"No," Ron's ears turned even redder.

"So you want the team to hold a practice while you're on a date with Parvati?"

"Well…yeah. We need to practice, Harry! We don't have the strongest team, and if we want to win the Quidditch Cup, we have to practice."

"But we can't practice without you, you're the Keeper!" Harry said indignantly.

"I know."

"Stupid git," Harry mumbled. Ron looked at him sheepishly, and the two of them had to laugh. Harry took back the quill and crossed out Ron's notes. "If you're going, I am too. We'll just have to hold practice on Sunday."

"Fine with me."

The two were still hammering out a schedule when Hermione came into the room. "Hey, guys," she greeted, sitting on the couch. "Um, Harry? Mind if we talk about something?"

"Sure." Harry moved to sit next to her. They both rounded on Ron, who was still writing and paying no attention to them. He finally looked up, only to find them looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, fine. I'll be in the common room upstairs, come get me when you're done," Ron told Harry, gathering the bits of parchments they'd been using.

Hermione waited until Ron left before she began to speak. "Harry, this isn't going to be easy to say," she began.

"I don't like the sound of this," Harry interrupted immediately.

Hermione took in a shaky breath. "Now, don't get mad—"

"Don't give me a _reason_ to get mad," he retorted.

"Harry, I can't go to Hogsmeade with you," she said.

"How come?" he asked suspiciously.

Hermione turned pink. "I've been asked for a date," she said meekly.

"By who?"

"Draco." The syllable came out as a squeak.

"Draco?" Harry shouted. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes. I know I promised I'd go with you, Harry, but Draco asked me for a proper date, and I said I'd go with him. I'm sorry I have to break my word, but I really want to go with him."

Harry shook his head, torn between disbelief and anger. "I don't even know what to say to you, Hermione."

Hermione looked very uncomfortable. "I know you're mad, but can't you try to be happy for me?"

He had not expected that. "Me, be happy for you? Happy about what, exactly? About the fact that you're dating my archenemy? The fact that you, my _ex-girlfriend,_ is dating the one person in school who's made both of our lives a living hell since first year?"

"This has nothing to do with _you_, Harry. For once, it's about me."

Harry was so angry, he couldn't even speak. His silence only gave Hermione something to feed on.

"Why can't you be happy for me?" she yelled. "Why is that so hard for you? Are you so miserable that you have to make everyone around you miserable, too? If so, it's certainly working! I can't believe you're that selfish."

"You know, you have no idea," Harry said, his voice shaking with fury. "You've just got no clue as to why I'm so _miserable_ all the time."

"Yes, I do. You're just jealous. You can't stand the fact that there is someone else out there who fancies me, and that I picked someone else over you," she accused. "But it's all your fault! It's your fault we're not together anymore."

Harry was breathing hard. He couldn't believe she was saying these words to him. Each accusation, each comment, felt as though she was slapping him across the face.

A few good minutes passed in which neither said anything. Finally, after drawing in some even breaths, Harry said in a quiet anger, "If that's what you really think, Hermione, that says a lot about you. You really don't know…you really don't know how I feel about you. You don't know why I broke up with you."

This stunned Hermione, though she made an effort to hide it. "If you would just tell me—"

Harry shook his head. "No. There's no point. It doesn't matter anymore."

"But..." She seemed to be regretting her words, but Harry didn't care anymore. He shook his head again.

For a long time afterwards, they sat on the couch, looking at each other, trying to figure out what would happen next.

* * *

That's it for chapter six. I promise, the rest of the story won't be all fights between Harry and Hermione, stuff will actually happen: mainly, Draco, Hermione, Harry, Voldemort. Voldemort will be playing a much larger role in the story. But that's all I'm saying, I can't give it away, now, can I? Anyway, please review! I love getting them. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, the next one is on its way. 


	7. Here Without You

Hello hello! I'm back again, of yet another chapter of "Home." [Yes I have changed the title once again…can't make up my mind. Oh well.] For those who read this story, you will be pleased to know that we are not quite halfway throughyet. Bad news for me, because I have to write it still…no, just kidding. It's not bad news, although I'm a little stuck. Plus I have to write a new chapter that was not in the original plans, and I have to make sure it all fits. But don't you fret, it'll get done. Despite the lack of reviews, I'm still excited and positive about this story.

Speaking of reviews, a huge huge thank you! goes out to the wonderful Ramy, Anasazi, lanna1186 and Mary Khijonji (hope I got it right!), who were very kind enough to review the previous chapter. Thank you! You are all very cool in my books.

For those wondering about Hermione/Harry and Hermione/Draco, just keep in mind that this is listed under Harry/Hermione as the main characters.

Time for the usual disclaimers: _I'm not J.K. Rowling, meaning I don't own Harry Potter and the Potter Universe. This is just for fun, so no worries. Also, I'm not Three Doors Down, so I don't own the song "Here Without You," I just really really like it._

Enough pre-amble. Please read, review and enjoy!

**

* * *

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CHAPTER SEVEN: HERE WITHOUT YOU

I'm here without you baby/but you're still on my lonely mind/I think about you baby/and I think dream about you all the time/I'm here without you baby/but you're still with me in my dreams/and tonight girl/it's only you and me.

Three Doors Down

* * *

Neither Harry nor Hermione slept well after that night. Eventually, each had retreated to their own separate rooms, but they were pretty much sharing the same thoughts.

Guilt as she had never known was creeping over Hermione. Yes, they had been fighting a lot lately, and often one or the other had said something that was much regretted later. But nothing compared to what Hermione said.

"Why can't you be happy for me? Why is that so hard for you? Are you so miserable that you have to make everyone around you miserable, too? If so, it's certainly working! I can't believe you're that selfish.

"You're just jealous. You can't stand the fact that there is someone else out there who fancies me, and that I picked someone else over you. But it's all your fault! It's your fault we're not together anymore."

Hermione sniffled as her harsh words and even harsher tones played in her mind. She hadn't meant to say those things to him—but it was killing her even more was that she believed in it. She really did. It was horrible, and it hurt more than Harry understood, but she truly believed in her words.

_This is just hopeless_, she thought. _No matter how much we want to be friends, I just can't see it happening ever again. _Hot tears trickled down her cheek, slipping off her face onto her pillow.

_Thank God for Draco,_ she thought. True, he seemed to be a contributing factor to Harry and Hermione's fallen friendship, but at least he would be there for her. He wouldn't turn his back on her because he didn't agree with something she was doing. And despite their rocky start, she knew it would never be difficult between them.

While she didn't love the fact that Draco was a large part as to why she and Harry weren't friends anymore, she'd come to realize something important: the break in her relationship with Harry was bound to happen. It was inevitable. If her friendship with Draco hadn't caused the break, something else would've. And, Hermione decided, it was best that it happened now, when she had someone on her side.

* * *

Even Ron went to bed feeling out of sorts that night. After quite a while of waiting, he had come to the conclusion that Harry had forgotten to come get him. Frustrated, Ron barreled down to his friends' separate dorm, only to find it dark and quiet. Clearly, Harry and Hermione had gone off to bed without saying anything to Ron.

He was still in somewhat of a foul mood when he woke up. He awoke early and decided to confront Harry on his error. He went back to the private dorm.

"Harry?" he called out.

A door creaked open. Harry, looking bleary-eyed and disordered, came into sight then. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice full of sleep.

Ron crossed the room. Hermione's door was closed, and Ron figured she was still sleeping. He was mad, but he didn't want to wake her up. "You forgot!" he accused in a loud whisper.

"Sorry?"

"You forgot to come work on the Quidditch schedules and diagrams. We need them for tomorrow!"

Harry yawned. "Don't worry. I'll take care of them today."

"Today's Hogsmeade."

Harry yawned again. "I know. But I'm not going."

It suddenly occurred to Ron that something unpleasant had happened last night after he had left the room. "Why not?" he asked nervously.

Harry quickly explained the fight between the two. Ron's mouth was hanging open. "She actually said that to you?" he said, glancing in the direction of her bedroom.

"Yeah. She did."

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Must be dear old Draco's influence on her. She's never said that sort of thing before."

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. "You're not angry with her?"

"I am, but I just can't be bothered with this anymore. We keep trying to make things all right between us, but we end up getting madder and madder at each other. I just don't care about any of this."

Ron felt somewhat disturbed by this announcement. He didn't mean it, right? But judging by the look on his face, maybe he did…

"Look," Ron said, slightly shaken, "why don't you forget about this Quidditch stuff and come with me to Hogsmeade?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure Parvati would _love_ that," he said sarcastically. "Thanks, Ron. I appreciate it, but I think I'll just stay in today."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I'm going to have a bit of a lie-in now, so I'll see you at dinner."

"Yeah, alright…"

"Have fun with Parv," Harry added. He flashed a grin, then retreated back into his room, closing the door softly behind him.

Ron found his way to the Great Hall, his mind still cluttered with thoughts of Harry, Hermione and what was going on between them. Whatever it was, he didn't like it. He knew it would only get worse from here.

* * *

A nervous Hermione was waiting by the Grand Staircase. The Hogsmeade group was about to leave, and Draco was nowhere in sight. Had he stood her up?

The queue of students suddenly began to move forward, in the direction of Hogsmeade. Great. They were leaving, and she couldn't find Draco.

As the others passed her, she spotted Ron. His eyes met hers, but before she could wave or smile at him, he just glared at her and looked away. In an instant, she knew Harry had told Ron about their latest argument.

_I just knew Ron would take Harry's side!_ she thought in frustration. _And I bet he won't bother to listen to _my _side of the story._

Hermione was rather upset by this point. She was about to go back to her room, ready to spend the day sulking, when finally Draco showed up.

"You're late," she greeted him.

"I know," Draco replied, speaking as though she had said something rather stupid. "You ready?"

Hermione nodded, and they began the trek to Hogsmeade. Just as she was wondering what on Earth they'd talk about all day, Draco spoke up.

"How'd Potter take it when you told him about the date?"

She winced. She would give anything to avoid talking about that, but Draco seemed genuinely interested. "Not well," she said quickly.

"As I figured," he said, not bothering to hide the leer on his face.

"It's not funny, Draco!" Hermione said shrilly. "He's really mad at me."

"Because you cancelled your plans? Yeah, totally unforgivable, I think."

"Not just that. He's mad because…well...it's quite complicated."

"He's just jealous," Draco said matter-of-factly.

"Maybe he is," Hermione admitted. No matter what happened between them, Hermione always found herself defending Harry. It was a reflex. "But he's allowed to be jealous. I was when he dated Parvati Patil a while back."

Draco shrugged. "Are we going to spend all of our date talking about Potter, or just this first part?"

"Sorry," she said. "Where are we going today?" she asked, switching gears.

Draco smiled. "You'll see."

* * *

It was one of the best dates Hermione had ever been on. She got to see Hogsmeade as Draco saw it—which was differently from how she'd seen it with Harry and Ron over the years.

They started off with some of the usual places: Zonko's and Honeydukes, mainly. They ducked into the Quidditch supply store (where Hermione pretended to be interested in how well each team was doing in the international league); they spent a long time in the bookstore, at which Draco bought her a book called _All New Hexes to Use on Your Enemy. _(Though he promised it was only as a joke, he also said it may come in handy, in case things turned "ugly" with Harry). They by-passed the popular Modern Witch store, which sold the trendiest dress robes and cloaks. Most of the female population of Hogwarts shopped there, but Hermione said it was only a waste of time and money.

Instead of getting something to drink at the Three Broomsticks, Draco made Hermione wait outside of a shop she'd never been in. A few minutes later, Draco emerged, quite smugly, holding a cauldron full of food.

"A picnic?" she asked excitedly. "Where?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he led to a secluded spot close to the Shrieking Shack. Most of the students were still in the shops; there was no one nearby to disturb them.

Draco unloaded the cauldron. For their picnic, he'd gotten them sandwiches of all kinds, soup with crackers, a fruit salad, pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and for dessert, cauldron cakes.

"This all looks fantastic!" Hermione said. "How'd you manage this?"

He shrugged, selecting a pork chop sandwich. "That little shop does catering. I sent an Owl yesterday, asking if they could make lunch for us. I got stuff I thought you'd like."

"I love it all. Draco, this is so sweet of you!"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing to me. I really appreciate it."

Draco shrugged again. "It's no big deal," he protested.

Hermione knew when to give up. She shook her head in amazement, smiling. Sometimes, she decided, people could really surprise you.

Malfoy hated admitting it, but he was actually having a good time with Hermione. He was not a sensitive guy. He was not one to share his feelings or admit to caring about someone other than himself. In fact, he was the opposite. He kept everything and everyone in check, just to be on the safe side.

This was why he was so unsure of whether or not he should be seen with Hermione. He didn't want to get _too_ close to her—at least, not publicly. He shuddered at the thought of the other Slytherins' reactions: Draco Malfoy, going out with a Mudblood? They'd think he was kidding.

But he wasn't. Not by a long shot.

After their picnic (which he secretly thought was very suave and romantic of himself), they lounged around, just talking. He also hated—really hated—admitting that she was actually an interesting person to be around. He found her uptight behaviour amusing, and was surprised at the amount of ambition she showed concerning her future. Though she didn't know what she wanted to do with herself after school, she was very determined to be successful. He very much admired her for that.

Malfoy leaned back, stretching out on the blanket that had come with the cauldron-shaped picnic basket. Hermione followed suit, lying right next to him.

With a sly smile, he put his arm around her. She blushed slightly, but looked quite pleased with herself.

"You know, Draco, I really wasn't sure about this," Hermione said. "I wasn't sure if I could trust you. I didn't know what you were after."

"Can you trust me yet?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I can."

Draco smiled. "About time," he said. He rolled over onto his side, about to kiss her.

"Whoa, wait! What are you doing?"

"_Trying _to kiss you."

"But—why?"

"You said you could trust me."

"That wasn't an invitation to kiss me."

"Don't you want me to?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then what's the problem?" he wanted to know. She didn't have an answer.

He tried again, and this time, she kissed him back.

* * *

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted, rushing forward. "Hermione, are you okay?"

She didn't answer.

"Hermione, wake up. Please wake up! Come on, Hermione," Harry pleaded, kneeling beside her.

She remained motionless. Her eyes were closed, and was void of all signs of life.

Harry wasn't ready to give up on her. "Come _on_, Hermione, we've got to get out of here."

"She won't wake, Potter. You're too late."

Harry jumped to his feet. Drawing out his wand, he looked around the darkened room for the speaker. He knew the voice all too well.

"You fool," Voldemort hissed, coming out of the shadows. He stood face to face with Harry, his spindly fingers clutching his own wand. "You see what you have done? You've killed her."

"Me?" Harry took another glance at Hermione. "_I _killed her?"

"In a way, yes," Voldemort replied, coming closer. "While it was I who performed the curse, it was your doing."

"How?" Harry demanded.

"You cared about her," Voldemort said simply. "It was the only way I could bring you to me, I had to go after her."

Harry didn't have a reply. The world was beginning to spin in a very unpleasant way. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but it only spun faster.

"She's not the only one. Oh, no, there were many others before her," Voldemort went on. With a flick of his wand, several people appeared out of thin air. They were in a large circle in the length of the room, and all of them were pearly, transparent figures. None of them were moving, either.

Harry got a good look at them: There was Ron…all of the Weasleys, actually…Lupin…Hagrid…Sirius…his mother, his father…Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas…his classmates…Moody…Tonks…all of the members of the Order of the Phoenix…even Dumbledore…

He hated the way the figures were staring at him with cold, expressionless eyes. He couldn't bear to look at them anymore.

"You have nothing left to live for, Harry Potter!" Voldemort said shrilly. "All those you have cared for are done away with, and it's all your fault. This is what you get for choosing love over hatred, them over me. Together, we could have been great, but being the fool that you are, you chose friends over the greatest power of all. You chose your own fate, boy, and now you have to face the consequences. As much as I desire to let you live in the misery of life without the ones who mean the most to you," he went on, his horrible smile filling his face, "I'm afraid I cannot let it be. So, Mr. Potter, take one good last look—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry shouted.

Voldemort's wand flew out of his hand. He was shocked, almost as much as Harry was. How he had been able to think with his friends and family—his dead friends and family—staring at him with vacant expressions was beyond him, but he knew he had to.

After all, in his sick, distorted ways, Voldemort had been right. It would be hell, being on Earth without everyone he cared about, but he had to do this. He had to do it for them.

Voldemort advanced on Harry, but he was quicker. He seized Voldemort's wand and snapped it in half.

"NO!" Voldemort shouted.

A pleasant sound filled the air—Fawkes's song. It was only a few notes, but it gave Harry a touch of comfort.

Something suddenly flew out from Voldemort's broken wand. It was a miniature ghost of the phoenix. The Ghost Fawkes hovered in the air, several feet above Voldemort's head.

Harry knew what this meant. It was time.

He raised his own wand. With every ounce of himself, Harry shouted "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A blinding green light emitted from the wand. Harry heard a soft thud—Voldemort had hit the floor.

He was gone.

The figures disappeared. Ghost Fawkes flew around the room a couple times, and then, with a soft cry, dissolved into the air.

_He had done it_. Harry had actually killed Voldemort. The whole thing seemed very unreal.

"Harry?" asked a voice from behind.

He turned around quickly. Hermione had stirred.

"Hermione! I thought you'd…" Harry rushed over to her.

"I came back. I needed to tell you something."

"What?"

"I love you, Harry. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"I love you, too. But what about—"

"It doesn't matter."

"—The others?" He was thoroughly confused.

"What about them? They're not here anymore. They're gone, Harry, but I'm still here." She took his face in her hands, pulled him towards her, and kissed him.

He wanted to protest how wrong this was. He'd just killed Voldemort, he had just saved the entire wizarding world, and almost every person Harry cared about was dead. He shouldn't be kissing Hermione, he should be figuring out what to do next.

But he couldn't. All he could feel was her lips on hers, and suddenly, it was all that mattered. He had everything he needed right in front of him…

* * *

Harry awoke with a start. Sitting upright, he tried to place exactly what had just happened.

"It was all a dream," he said to himself. "All just a dream."

He didn't know whether to feel happy or sad about this. Happy because it meant that everyone—except for Sirius and his parents—were still alive. Sad because it meant that Voldemort was still out there somewhere…and he and Hermione hadn't gotten back together.

Harry looked at his clock. He could make out the blurry numbers and discovered it was three in the morning.

He nestled down into his bed, wondering if he would get back to sleep after that interesting dream. He didn't want to dwell on it just now, but he couldn't help it.

That was the strangest dream I've had in a long time. Should I tell anyone about it? he wondered.

No, he thought determinedly. This dream had been very different from the others…in a way, it had a happy ending.

He found himself wishing it had been reality. No matter what, when it came down to it, he wanted to be with Hermione. So badly, it seemed, he didn't care that his friends had all died for it…

There had to be a way…without everyone else having to sacrifice themselves…

Harry made a resolution right then and there. He was going to get Hermione back. No matter what it took, he was going to get back together with Hermione.

Even if it killed him.

* * *

So there you have it, there's chapter seven. It was really fun to write, actually. And I would like to give you an insider's tidbit: every time I wrote/read over the part where Harry yawns twice, I always always yawned myself. Every time, even if I wasn't sleepy. I found that amusing, and thought I should share. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you are confused or anything, it will all be clear by the end of the story. Please review if you enjoyed, and look for chapter 8, coming soon. _Merci beaucoup!_


	8. Adelaide

So. I'm back. I've been gone a long time, but I'm back, finally, with a brief update to the story. I suddenly decided that I wanted to work on it again...so here it is! This isn't my favourite chapter of the story, but I wanted to get it up anyway. It's a turning point in Harry and Hermione's relationship, and something that will be important later on happens.

Also, I'm writing this story after completing the HP series. It's sort of bizarre because the events that happen in my story are nothing _near_ what happens in the books. So consider this another AU fic.

Okay, enough preamble. I really hope you like this! If you do, please review. But most of all, enjoy!

_The usual disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter or anything in the HP universe. J.K. Rowling does! I don't own Adelaide, the beautiful song for this chapter. It belongs to the Old 97's. _

_

* * *

_

_I remember when/I had you and you had so much promise then/You promised me that you would never leave again/To be broken you remain/Adelaide _Old 97's

The news that Hermione Granger was dating Draco Malfoy had spread throughout Hogwarts like an epidemic. They had been spotted holding hands in the hallway one morning, and by the end of the lunch period, the entire school had heard. They earned strange looks from passers-by, even when they were walking by themselves. Judging from their looks of shock and surprise, even the professors had heard of this strange new pairing.

To Hermione's extreme astonishment, the Slytherins had been somewhat neutral towards her. Usually they teased her, called her names, or out-and-out ignored her existence. But now – now that she was dating one the most respected house members, she realized – they weren't all that bad. Most still ignored her, which suited her just fine. A few Slytherins boys actually smiled and said hello to her. Some nodded in acknowledgement if they happened to make eye contact with her. Sure, Pansy Parkinson was giving her the death glare, but on the whole, the Slytherin lot were almost accepting of her.

The Gryffindors, however, were not. Many of Hermione's so-called friends stopped talking to her. They accused her of being a traitor, of crossing over to the dark side along with Draco and becoming a Death Eater. She endured some severe taunting from her fellow Gryffindors. Several Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students were behaving similarly.

Still, Hermione pondered, things were going surprisingly well in her life. Now that everyone knew about her and Draco, they no longer had to meet in secret. They were able to talk, walk together, sometimes even kiss in the hallways. They often ate lunch together, and most of their evenings were spent in the library (though not much studying got done). For the first time in a while, she was actually…_happy._ Yes, Hermione believed, things were going quite well indeed.

* * *

Almost two weeks after she and Draco started dating, Hermione had gone into McGonagall's office to discuss her career options – a process every seventh-year student had to go through. Hermione was quite pleased that she decided to become a professor herself, hopefully teaching Transfiguration or Potions. McGonagall recommended a few different schools for teachers, and when Hermione left her office, she was laden down with several applications and brochures. 

She hurried back to her room, excited to look through them. She was so busy thinking about which school she wanted to go to – the one in Australia sounded particularly interesting – that she tripped over something when she walked through the door to the common room.

"What on – Harry! Why is your trunk in the hallway?" she called out as she got to her feet. Her papers had scattered on the floor, and she began to collect them as Harry entered the common room.

"I'm moving," he answered flatly. He didn't look at her. He hadn't looked at her in a while.

"Moving! Why? Where?" Hermione hadn't been expecting this as his answer. She stood up, leaving half of her papers on the floor.

"Back to the dorms, with the others."

"Oh. But why?" she pressed on. Her heart began to quicken its pace. An answer formed in her brain, but she pushed it out before she had time to process it.

"Come on, Hermione, you know why," Harry replied. He crossed the room to the table, where he turned his back on her as he sorted through a pile of homework.

"I don't kn…" her voice faded. She knew why he was leaving, and there was no sense in pretending otherwise. "Draco."

Harry gave no reply. He continued sifting through scraps of parchment, his back still turned to her.

"Harry, please don't do this. You don't have to," Hermione pleaded.

"I do."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do. Hermione," he finally turned around to look at her. It seemed like this was the first time in almost two weeks that he looked her directly in the eye. "Do you want us to be friends, Hermione?"

"What? Of course I do." Hermione squirmed a little. She had been wanting, almost craving for Harry to look at her, but now that he was, she wished he'd stopped. His gaze was intense.

"I do too. So, I'm leaving." He crossed the room again, only this time towards her. He bent down to his trunk, opened it, and threw in his school work.

"But, Harry…"

"Look, Hermione," he said as he straightened up. His eyes met hers again, and Hermione drew in a quick breath. Still, after everything that had changed between them, she felt a jolt in her sides whenever he looked at her. "I want to be happy for you. You asked me to, so I'm going to try. But…I just need to get away from you."

Hermione recoiled as if slapped. Her brown eyes began to fill with tears. "You need to get away from me?" she repeated, her voice watery.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up more than usual. "Yeah. I think we shouldn't be around each other all the time right now. Any more."

"Because of Draco."

"Yeah. You know how I feel about it."

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" Hermione demanded.

Harry shrugged.

"Do you hate me because I'm dating him or something?"

"No," Harry replied slowly. "But you're my ex who happens to be dating the person I hate most at Hogwarts. Who happens to be a supporter of the person I hate most of all, who killed my parents, Sirius, who's doing everything in his power to kill _me._"

"I told you, Draco doesn't support Voldemort," Hermione replied.

Harry shook his head. It was quite clear he didn't believe her, but he didn't seem to want to start another fight between them. "I just think this is the best thing to do," he said.

"Okay," Hermione replied. Her eyes filled up with tears again, but this time they spilled out unexpectedly. "If this is what you think is best, then…"

"I do."

A sudden knock made them both startle. Ron was standing by the door, which had been left open by Hermione. He looked uncomfortable, and Hermione knew at that moment he could sense the tension between them.

"You ready, mate?" Ron asked Harry.

"Yeah. I am."

Ron nodded. He grabbed a side of Harry's trunk and began to drag it out of the room. "What did you pack in here, Harry, a spare suit of armor?" he grunted to himself as he left.

Harry and Hermione both smiled in spite of themselves. But as Ron's grumblings faded away, so did their smiles. They looked at each other but neither knew what to say.

"Erm…" Harry finally said, shuffling his feet.

"Yeah."

"See you at dinner?" he asked, looking at a spot above her head.

"Yeah," she repeated. The slightest smile crossed her face.

Harry brushed past her, making a quick escape.

* * *

Harry froze in the hallway, just beyond the door. His decision to move back into the boys' dorm had been impulsive, and the full weight of it hadn't hit him until just now. 

He'd promised himself that he would do anything to get Hermione back. It seemed like months had passed, even though it had only been a few days ago. That was before he found out Hermione was with Malfoy.

Harry thought back to the moment he'd found out: like most of the school, he'd found out by seeing them together in the hallway. Holding hands. That had stung, but what bothered Harry the most was that she hadn't had the nerve to tell him that she and Malfoy were together. It was though Hermione didn't care enough to tell him, and that definitely bothered him. He hadn't been able to look at her ever since then.

_I'm doing the right thing. I needed to get out of there,_ he told himself. Still, he realized he had never quite felt this miserable before.

Harry headed down the hall to catch up to Ron, who, by the sounds of the swearing and mumbling up ahead, was still having trouble with Harry's trunk. Harry had taken a few steps when it happened.

Sudden euphoria filled his entire being. He sank to his knees, smashing them on the stone floor. He heard a high, familiar laugh flood his mind, vibrate though his body.

"Harry? Harry!" a far-away voice shouted. The laughter stopped and Harry felt his senses return one by one. A hazy memory of Hermione flashed before his eyes, but disappeared before he could make sense of it.

"Harry!" the voice shouted again, this time with more urgency. Harry blinked. Ron suddenly came into view.

"Ron?"

"Harry, what's going on? Why are you on the floor?" Ron asked. He looked simultaneously puzzled and frightened.

Harry got to his feet. His knees throbbed slightly, and Harry could practically feel the bruises forming already. "I don't know…" he said slowly. "All of a sudden, I was just elated," he said with a frown.

"You were laughing, mate. Really loudly," Ron informed him warily.

"It was Voldemort's voice, Ron," Harry said quietly. "I heard Voldemort in my head. It was like _I_ was Voldemort and really happy about something."

There was a moment of silence. "Why do you think he's really happy all of a sudden?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry confessed. _I just know it can't be good._

* * *

There you have it, chapter eight. Hope it was worth the years-long wait. If you liked it, please review! And chapter nine is coming soon. I swear. Seriously. tiny dancer 


	9. The Fear You Won't Fall

Look! For once I made good on my promise and actually updated 'soon' - days after posting the previous chapter. That is a minor accomplishment right there. And speaking of accomplishment, check this out. This chapter? About 8 pages on MSWord. I didn't expect or plan to make this chapter long - and for that I apologize - but it needed to happen. So much is going to happen for the next few chapters that I can't avoid it. I'll try to keep the length down in the future, for any who might care.

The usual disclaimers: _I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe, J.K. Rowling does. I'm not making any money off of this, sadly enough. And I don't own "The Fear You Won't Fall", the lovely and sweet chapter song. Joshua Radin, who is super cool, does. That is all._

The usual preamble: Read! Enjoy! Review!

* * *

_//I know you're scared/ that I'll soon be over it/ That's part of it all/ Part of the beauty of falling in love with you/ is the fear you won't fall\\ _Joshua Radin

* * *

The Christmas holidays were fast approaching. The seventh-years suddenly found themselves swamped with homework in preparation for their N.E.W.T.s. Hermione, in her solitary dorm room, felt she barely saw anyone anymore, since most of her peers locked themselves up in the library. 

Even with the incredible amounts of homework they had to mull through, the students were still abuzz with holiday spirit. Even some of the teachers were getting into the spirit of things – Flitwick threw his seventh-years a Christmas party during the last week of classes. Rumours were flying around school that there was going to be a school-wide ball, which sent the girls into a frenzy and the boys into a panic. Students throughout the school were discussing their plans for the holidays with excitement and gusto. Everyone, it seemed, was ready for a break.

Hermione was, too. She was looking forward to having a few days away from school work and studying. She was ready to spend some quality time with Harry, Ron and Ginny. They would have the whole of the Gryffindor common room to themselves, and she often thought of how nice this would be.

It had been a while since Hermione had really spoken to Harry and Ron. Since they shared most of their classes, she saw them on a regular basis. They still sat together and chatted in between lessons and at meal times, but Hermione noticed that the intimacy level of their conversations had taken a dive. Ever since they had found out about her and Draco, and ever since Harry had moved out of the Head Boy and Girl dorm, Hermione noted that their friendship had changed. She enjoyed being with Draco, yes – but she missed Harry and Ron. More than anything, she wanted to repair their friendship.

_And the holidays might just be the thing to do it!_ Hermione thought as she went down to dinner on the last night of the term. The Great Hall was seemed to be fuller than normal. Though no extra students were there, everyone was milling about. No one could sit still. The energy in the room was infectious.

"Hi, Ron!" she said happily as she took a seat across from him. "Oh, look – they've got Shepherd's pie! Good, I'm starving!" she exclaimed. She pulled the pie closer to her and cut a slice. "Where's Harry? Isn't he coming down to dinner?"

"Nope," Ron said thickly, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. He swallowed quickly and continued. "He's upstairs packing; he hadn't gotten around to that yet. We had a huge lunch over at Hagrid's not too long ago, so—"

"Packing? Where's he going?" Hermione cut across him.

"To the Burrow."

"The _Burrow?_ Why on earth is he going there?"

"For Christmas?" Ron replied, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're going back home for Christmas?"

"Well, yeah. What else would we do for the break?"

"Ron! Oh, I don't believe this!"

"What's the matter?" Ron asked. A slight trace of apprehension appeared on his face.

"You two didn't tell me that you were going away for the holidays. I thought you were staying here, neither of you said you leaving. I told my parents I was going to stay here, and now I'll be by myself for Christmas!" she exclaimed, her voice growing higher and higher as she spoke. "How come you never told me you were leaving?"

"I dunno. It just didn't come up, I guess. I thought Harry or Ginny would've told you."

"Well, they didn't! And you could've!"

"Hermione, calm down, would you?" Ron asked embarrassedly. People were turning around to look at Hermione, who was sounding more hysterical with each word. "Why don't you just tell McGonagall that you've changed your mind?"

"It's no use; it's too late to book a seat on the train. Besides, my parents have already gone away for the holidays. I'd have no way of getting home or getting to them." She didn't bother to ask about joining them at the Burrow. She had a feeling she wasn't exactly welcome there at the moment. She wasn't surprised when, in the silence that followed her statement, an invitation did not come.

"At least you've got dear old _Draco_ to keep you company," Ron said finally. His faced scrunched up at the mention of Draco's name.

"No, I haven't. He's going home for the holidays, just like everyone else but me," Hermione said sulkily. She pushed her plate away from her, her appetite vanished. She stood to leave.

"Aww, come on, Hermione. Where are you going?"

"I'm not hungry anymore. Have a good Christmas, Ron," she said. Without waiting for a reply, she walked away.

* * *

A few hours later, Ron made his way to Hermione's dorm. He felt guilty about the exchange that had happened over dinner, and he wanted to make it right before he left. He drew a deep breath, not really knowing why he was so nervous, and rapped on the door. 

Moments later it swung open. Hermione looked surprised to see him. "Ron. What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

She nodded and stepped aside to let him in. They sat down on the couch, both aware of the awkwardness in the room. It had been a long time since they'd talked like this in private.

"Right. Well," Ron began. He cleared his throat. "I just came to apologize. Someone should have told you that we were leaving for the holiday. We just assumed that you'd be going too, and well…we didn't think to tell you. Sorry," he added, blushing a little.

Hermione exhaled. "It's all right. I shouldn't have assumed you were going to stay, especially since you've both gone home the last two years," she said, appearing to realize it in that very moment. "Someone should have said something, and it could've been me."

Her voice faded away. Ron began to fidget, knowing the next part was not going to be easy. He could feel his ears turn red slightly as he continued.

"I'd like to invite you to the Burrow with us, but…I can't. I shouldn't. See, the thing is, Mum and everybody else – everyone in the Order – knows that you're dating Malfoy. I think it may have been McGonagall," he added quickly, seeing the outrage on her face. "I'm not sure how they found out, but they did. And they're pretty mad at you. They think that you're abandoning us, or something."

"I'm _not!_ I would never….I couldn't…I mean, Voldemort, I wouldn't…" Hermione seemed unable to produce proper sentences. She rounded on Ron almost fiercely. "You believe me, right? You know I wouldn't ever join up with Voldemort."

"It's not that, exactly. It's…some members think that you might be passing valuable information about the Order to Malfoy."

Hermione turned a sickly shade of grey. "I don't believe this," she said gravely. "I can't believe that everyone thinks I would betray them like that."

"Well, all right, not _everyone_," he said, trying to mollify her. "Dumbledore doesn't think you'd do that. And neither does Lupin. And Dad. And maybe some more, I don't know exactly. Just _some_ people think you've gone to the Dark side." He put on a winning smile, as if this were good news.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "If you think that's going to cheer me up, Ron, you're very much mistaken."

"Right. I know. Sorry." The smile dropped quickly. He sighed and rubbed his nose. "But I thought you should know all that. You're free to date who you want, Hermione, but…Draco Malfoy? You've got to understand why we're – why _some­ – _are skeptical."

"Draco's changed. He's not his father, he isn't a Death Eater," Hermione insisted flatly. Her voice had turned cold. "Do you honestly think I'd date him if he was? Do you really think I'd betray everyone – betray _Harry_ – like that?"

Ron shrugged. "We're just being careful," was all he could say.

"Fine. But you can tell everyone, not that it's their business, that Draco hasn't asked me a _thing_ about Harry or Dumbledore or the Order or anything. And if he did, I wouldn't tell him."

"I will," Ron promised. They sat in silence again, Hermione wordlessly fuming. More than anything, Ron wanted to bolt from that room, but he stayed put. He waited it out, trying to think of something friendly to say. But nothing came. He didn't think that Hermione would betray the Order, but he still couldn't make sense of her dating Malfoy. There were so many boys to choose from at school, Ron just couldn't figure out why she had chosen Malfoy. From the moment Ron had found out about them, he looked at her differently. Not suspiciously, not angrily, not accusatory. Just…differently.

"Hermione? I think I'm going to go," Ron said finally, edging off the couch. "I've still got to pack, and we're up early for the train tomorrow. So I should…" he gestured to the door.

Hermione nodded. She stood too.

"So, erm…merry Christmas," Ron said.

"Merry Christmas, Ron."

Ron leaned in and gave her a quick hug. She squeezed him tightly before letting go.

"See you," he said. He then fled, leaving her alone to confused thoughts.

* * *

Hermione watched sadly as the last of the students who were going home left the castle. She had hugged Ginny good-bye and waved to Ron and Harry, and now they were gone. She had looked for Draco in the crowd but was unable to find him. This bothered her – why hadn't he wanted to say good-bye to her? – and added to her loneliness. So she wasn't important enough for him to say good-bye to. So she had jeopardized her position in the Order to date him, only to be forgotten like this. 

_Whatever. That's fine by me,_ she thought, not believing herself for a moment. She sulked her way into the Great Hall, where she knew the few students who were staying had gathered for breakfast. She was wondering with whom she could sit when suddenly someone covered her eyes from behind.

"Guess who?" asked a familiar voice.

"Draco!" she squealed excitedly. She tore his hands off of her face and whirled around. "What are you doing here?" she asked, squishing him in a big hug.

"I decided to stay here for Christmas," he replied, gently prying her off. "I decided at the last minute I'd rather stay here with you."

"Draco, that's so sweet! And I'm so glad you're here, I was miserable at the thought of being here by myself for Christmas."

"I figured you would be," he said, guiding them to a seat at the Slytherin table. "That's why I stayed."

"I can't believe it. You've done a selfless deed!" she teased.

"Yes, but don't tell anyone," he replied with a smirk. "Besides, it's not entirely selfless," he said suggestively. Hermione laughed.

For the first time ever, Hermione ate at a different table than the Gryffindor table. It was a strange sensation to have a different view of the Great Hall, to be able to see where she normally sat, to seem as though she were a Slytherin herself…

The last thought made her squirm a little. Hermione, a Slytherin? Never.

_Of course, if anyone at the Order caught wind of this, they'd have a fit,_ she thought sullenly. Without realizing it, a scowl formed on her face. _They'd never tell me anything again if they knew I was associating with the Slytherins like this._

"I've made plans for us tonight," Draco said suddenly, starting Hermione out of her reverie.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. After the feast tonight, we should go up to the Room of Requirement."

"What for?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

Draco looked pleased with himself. "You'll see," promised.

* * *

True enough, as soon as the feast was over that evening, Draco lead Hermione out of the Great Hall. They walked hand-in-hand through the corridors until they reached the outside of the Room of Requirement. He let go of her hand a few yards away from the wall where a door would soon appear.

"Wait here," he instructed. He then paced back and forth in front of the door three times, obviously concentrating on whatever it was he had planned for them. A large, beautifully carved wooden door suddenly appeared before their eyes.

Draco turned to her with a smile. He held out his hand to her. "Ready, Hermione?"

"Ready," she replied, though she sounded a little dubious to her own ears.

Draco grabbed her hand again then pushed through the door. They entered a dimly-lit room, and as soon as they were a few paces in, the door swung shut behind them. "Draco, what exactly is this?" Hermione asked.

"What does it look like?" he retorted.

Hermione looked around. In the middle of the room was a large four-poster bed, with big, luxurious-looking pillows and a beautiful bedspread. Candles were floating around the room, reminding Hermione of the ones in the Great Hall. What looked like a bottle of champagne and two glasses sat atop of a bedside table. There was a stereo in a corner of the room, playing soft, romantic music.

"It looks like a bedroom," she said finally.

"That's because it is. Here," Draco said as a red rose appeared in his hands. "This is for you."

"Draco, this is…"

"Romantic? Delightful? A brilliantly thought-out plan?"

"No, incredibly cheesy," Hermione replied. "But I like it. Although, um…I'm not sure that I…" her voice trailed off as she looked at the bed before her. It seemed huge somehow, almost overwhelming. "I'm not sure if I'm quite ready for…that."

"Just wait and see," Draco said, almost dismissively. "Come on." He tugged on her hand and lead them over to the bed. He sat on it and looked at her. "Just sit," he said, correctly interpreting the look of nervousness on her face. "I'll be good. No pressure, all right?. Trust me."

Hermione nodded and sat beside him. Her heart was fluttering in her chest.

Draco leaned in and kissed her gently. "See, that's not so bad, is it?" he asked. Hermione smiled and shook her head no. Draco kissed her again, this time with more force.

They kissed and kissed. Draco shifted them onto the bed, his body on top of his. They continued to kiss, each one becoming more passionate. They had snogged before, but they were never secure in their solitude. Before they always had to worry about being caught; now, the rest of the world was the furthest thing from their minds.

Their kisses were fewer and less romantic now. Draco's hands were everywhere on her body. At first this distracted her and made her nervous, but then she got used to it. Then she started touching him and discovered how much she liked it.

He stopped kissing her. He looked directly at her, and she tried to read the expression in his eyes. Was it lust, desire? Or was it something closer to love?

She'd never thought him capable of loving anyone but himself before they got to know each other. She hadn't considered the possibility of him maybe loving her until this very moment. Was that what was happening – was he falling? Had he fallen already?

Had she?

There was so much she wanted to say at that moment. She had so many questions and needed so many answers. But as she looked up at him, she found herself unable to ask them.

"Hermione," he said softly. It seemed like a question.

She nodded slowly.

Draco nodded as well. The candles dimmed suddenly, leaving them in almost total darkness. There was just the right amount of light left to still see his features.

They kissed again, and became closer to one another than Hermione had ever known before.

* * *

Long after the candles burned down to the wick's end, long after Hermione and Draco had fallen asleep side by side, Wormtail the rat scurried into his master's hideout. The room was dark and cold, and smelled vaguely of death and decay. 

Wormtail willed his way into human form again. "Master?" he called out tentatively. "My Lord?"

"What is it, Wormtail?" replied his master's cold, impatient voice. A small green fire appeared in the centre of the room, giving it a sickly glow.

"My Lord, I just came to tell you…to report, that is…that the first phase of the plan is complete. We could move forward. We could do it tonight, if you wish it."

"Tonight? No, I don't think so," Voldemort replied thoughtfully. The green flames flickered, the shadows dancing across his pale face. "Where is the boy?"

"He's no longer at Hogwarts," Wormtail reported. "He's gone. It's the holidays, my Lord, and we believe he's gone with the Weasley boy to spend Christmas with him and his family."

Voldemort was silent for a moment, still in thought. At last he spoke. "No, not tonight. But thank you for the information, Wormtail. You've proven yourself to be quite indispensable after all."

"Thank you, my Lord!" Wormtail squeaked. He got to his knees and bowed proudly.

Voldemort paid no attention to this. He thought of the plan that would soon, finally come into action. He had finally come up with foolproof way to get Harry Potter into his grasp. This time, it would work.

This time, Voldemort would kill him. He laughed, almost manically, at the thought.

Miles away, in Ron's room at the Burrow, Harry awoke, his scar burning.

* * *

There you have it. Again, sorry for the length, But I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please review! Up next, chapter soon. Look for that soon. xoxo tiny dancer 


	10. How to Save a Life

All right! I've returned to this story, several years after starting it. It's sort of a personal mission to complete it, no matter who is reading it or how long it's going to take me. It's on like Donkey Kong.

So I present to you Chapter 10. One of the reasons I've taken so long with this is because of what happens in this chapter. I didn't want to do it, but it's something that (sort of) needs to happen to advance the story and begin the end. If that made any sense.

As usual, I don't own anything in this story – all Harry Potter related things belong to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy it, and if you do, take a moment to send out a review! Many thanks!

* * *

Chapter 10: How to Save a Life

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_

_Somewhere along all the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known_

_How to save a life_

_-The Fray_

* * *

It wasn't until April did it happen. The Death Eaters were taking over the country. Every day brought news of new deaths and disappearances. Several of Harry's classmates had lost loved ones, ranging from third cousins twice removed to siblings and parents. The air at Hogwarts had slowly turned tense and bleak and everyone began to dread the morning post for fear of bad news.

The morning it happened, the sky above the Great Hall was sunny for the first time in while. Hermione was sitting, eating her breakfast and reading the paper. The headline of the Daily Prophet proclaimed that Voldemort was hiding out somewhere near Hogsmeade. Hermione glanced around her and saw groups of students talking quietly and looking terrified.

"You-Know-Who is in _Hogsmeade._ He may as well be at Hogwarts," whispered a third year sitting a few seats away from Hermione.

"I want to go home! D'you think they'll let us go?" asked a first year his friends, his face wide with anxiety.

Hermione knew that as Head Girl, she should be reassuring the younger students. But she couldn't. She didn't know what to say to them. If anything, she felt more anxious than they did.

Hermione scanned the room for Draco but couldn't find him. She thought this a little weird, but shrugged it off. This should have been a clue the day wouldn't be normal.

"Good morning!" Ron said suddenly, appearing out of nowhere. He sat down across from Hermione.

"Ron, you startled me!" Hermione gasped, putting her hand on her heart. That was putting it mildly. She could feel her heart crashing around in her chest, still recovering from the scare.

"Oh, sorry. What's gotten you so nervous?" he asked. He began to fill a nearby plate with his favourite breakfast foods. "Ah," he mumbled, glancing at the Daily Prophet's front page. "Well, that's nothing new, is it? I don't mean to be insensitive," he added in a rush, "but every day there's another You-Know-Who sighting."

"True, but apparently he's in Hogsmeade. That's a little too close for comfort."

"Rubbish," Ron said, waving his hand dismissively. "He's one of the brightest wizards in history. I don't like it more than you do," he added, off Hermione's look. "But it's true. D'you really think that he'd be careless to allow himself to be seen by anybody? Especially if he's come after Harry."

Hermione gave a little sigh. "You're right," she had to admit.

"Of course I am," Ron said with a grin that Hermione found herself returning.

Over the last few months, Hermione and Ron had been repairing their fractured friendship. As soon as they returned from the Christmas holidays, Ron really came through. He had made a point to spend time with Hermione, even if Harry had been unwilling. Hermione told him plenty about her relationship with Draco, much to Ron's disgust. Eventually, in time, Ron had learned to control his great distaste for Draco Malfoy to a bare minimum – around Hermione, at least.

Now, they were closer than ever. And for that, Hermione was grateful – especially with Harry still so far apart from her.

"You think Harry has seen this?" Ron asked, gesturing toward the _Daily Prophet._ It was as though Ron had read her mind.

Hermione gave a non-committal shrug. "I don't know. But even if he hasn't, he will soon. It's all anyone's talking about."

Ron began to help himself to breakfast. "True. Still, I s'pose it's something he should know about. Even if it's probably not true, it's something to be aware of…" his voice trailed off skeptically. "What?" he asked suspiciously, aware of the way Hermione was looking at him.

"Nothing," Hermione said with a smile. Sometimes the changes in Ron still startled her. How much he'd grown over the years, how much he'd matured. Years ago she thought he was a bit of a goof off. Now, sitting across from her, she realized how well he'd turned out – as a person and friend.

"Seriously, Hermione," Ron said, disgruntled. "I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate you looking at me with such loving adoration."

Hermione laughed out loud. "If that's what you want to call it, fine. But really, Ron, I just…I'm glad we've patched things up," she concluded in a quiet voice.

"Oh, shut up with all the sentimental stuff," Ron replied. But he was smiling. She understood what he was saying, and she smiled back.

* * *

As Harry made his way down to breakfast, he found himself face to face with the very last person he'd wanted to see: Malfoy. Harry gave him his worst look, but had no desire to interact with Malfoy otherwise.

Malfoy, unfortunately, had other plans. "Better watch your back, Potter," Malfoy warned with his annoying drawl.

Harry stopped in his tracks. "Is that a threat?" Oh, how Harry would love any excuse to curse Malfoy to the ends of the earth, or even better – punch him over and over again until he felt better.

"You mean you haven't heard?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "The Daily Prophet said that the Dark Lord is down the street from us, Potter. Hogsmeade," he added for clarification. "He was spotted there not long ago. He's coming to get you, Potter. I personally won't miss you, but that doesn't come as shock to you, eh?" Malfoy grinned a nasty smile.

Harry rolled his eyes. He had long given up believing anything _The Daily Prophet_ said about Voldemort. It was turning out to be as reliable as The Quibbler. Without bothering to reply to Malfoy, Harry started to turn away, wanting to make it down to breakfast before the food was cleared from the table.

"Just watch your back, Potter!" Malfoy repeated. "It won't be long now!"

* * *

Harry had barely sat down when Professor McGonagall approached him and his friends at the table. She held a piece of parchment in her hands, and one look at her gave away the fact that on the parchment held bad news. Harry's heart started to speed up.

"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall began. Now Harry felt ill – McGonagall's voice was low and soft, the kind of voice she reserved for bad news. "Mr. Weasley, I'm afraid that there's been a disturbance at your home. You're to go back immediately." She handed Ron the piece of parchment. "Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged for the Floo Network in my office to take you there…I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley," she added sympathetically.

"What kind of disturbance?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

Harry glanced over at Ron, who was reading the parchment over and over again. He had gone white, the colour completely drained from his face.

"Ron?" Harry prodded gently.

"Doesn't say," Ron said in a voice quite unlike his own. "Just says…" he trailed off.

"Come, Mr. Weasley. Your sister will join you later, but –"

"I have to go," Ron said suddenly. He sprinted to his feet. Harry noticed his hands were shaking.

"We'll go with you," Harry offered, standing up as well.

"No, Potter. You and Granger are to stay here. I mean it," McGonagall added as Hermione opened her mouth in protest. She began to lead Ron out of the Great Hall, but before they had gone far, she turned and said, "I'll keep you updated," she promised them.

Harry watched them leave. The sick feeling in his stomach was worsening by the second. They couldn't just stay there in limbo, waiting for the worst and hoping for the best. Harry turned to Hermione, opening his mouth, when Hermione spoke first.

"Dumbledore?" she suggested.

Harry nodded. She'd read his mind. Without another word, they jumped up from the table and hurried as fast as they could to the Headmaster's office.

"Do you know the password?" Hermione panted as they neared the gargoyle statue that guarded Dumbledore's office.

"Yes, s'long as he hasn't changed it since September," Harry replied. He sprinted the last few steps. "Bertie Botts!" he hollered at the statue, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

"All right, all right," the statue grumbled. "Don't need to shout, you know," it added. A door swung open and Harry hurried inside without bothering to check if Hermione was behind him or not.

"Professor! Professor!" Harry called as he dashed up the spiral staircase, feeling slightly dizzy. He heard Hermione panting heavily, several steps behind him.

By the time he reached the top of the staircase, the door to Dumbeldore's office was open, and Dumbledore himself was standing in the doorway. Concern was written across his wrinkled face.

"I thought you might pay me a visit," Dumbledore said lightly. Though his tone was gentle, his eyes were worried. He understood the graveness of the situation.

"Please, Professor, we need to get to the Burrow," Harry pleaded. Hermione, too out of breath to say anything, nodded earnestly.

"Harry, I think it's best we wait for confirmation from the Order before –"

"No!" Harry shouted. "We need to get there _now._"

"Please, Professor," Hermione added, still gasping for breath.

Dumbledore frowned. "This is against my better judgment, Harry," he said quietly.

"We don't have _time_ for judgment, sir! If the Weasley's are in trouble, we need to help them now!" Harry wished he could somehow convey the desperation of the situation...that his family was in danger…he needed to _something_, anything he could…

"Very well. The Order should be arriving at the Burrow any minute as it stands." Dumbeldore strode over to the magnificent fireplace in his office and murmured an incantation before turning to Harry and Hermione. "We only have moments before the Floo Network notices," he explained.

Harry didn't need any more prodding. "Thank you, Professor," he said briskly as he grabbed a handful of powder from a bag on the mantel. He threw the dust on the fire, shouted "The Burrow!" and stepped into the now-green flames.

Everything was spinning. Harry traveled by the Floo Network enough to know to keep his hands tucked in. He barely noticed the unpleasantness, though. The possibility of what scene might meet his eyes when he reached the Burrow…

Harry felt himself slowing down, so he stuck out a hand. He stumbled out of the Weasley's fireplace clumsily, trying to avoid falling on his face. Before he could take in his surroundings, though, he heard a shout.

"Harry, NO! Go back, it's a trap!" Ron shouted desperately from Harry's left.

In the act of turning his head to the sound of Ron's panicked voice, several things happened. First, Hermione came crashing through the fireplace, missing Harry by mere inches and landing with a dull thud on the floor. Next came several popping sounds, which Harry knew signified that the Order had arrived through Apparation.

Worst of all, though, was the hissing of two words that made Harry's blood run cold.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flashing, blinding green light followed instantaneously.

There was too much confusion in the room to figure out what, exactly, was going on. The Order was now dueling with a small group of Death Eaters, though where the Death Eaters had come from, Harry couldn't be sure. He heard a horrified scream – more like a strangled cry – but he couldn't tell from whom it came. Harry reached into his robes to grab his wand, but before he could move, Lupin swooped towards him and Hermione.

"What…" Harry tried to ask, but Lupin ignored him. He gripped Harry and Hermione tightly, and before Harry could blink, he found himself spinning unpleasantly. Side along Apparition.

When the spinning ceased, Harry didn't have time to figure out what was going or even where he was before Lupin said quietly, "Stay here."

Lupin let go of them and strode across the small room. He opened a trapdoor and ushered Harry and Hermione inside. "Hurry," he said in a whisper.

It wasn't until they were walking along a dark tunnel did Harry recognize where they were – the secret passage in Honeydukes that lead to Hogwarts. Now that the confusion was over, Harry suddenly had about a dozen questions. "Professor, what happened?" Harry asked, starting with the most basic.

Lupin didn't say anything for a moment or two. He led them down the passage, using his wand to light the darkened way. "It appears that the Death Eaters set a trap. They wanted to get you away from the castle, and the only way to get you was to lure you away under false pretenses. Ron's family was never in any danger. It was a set-up. We tried to get confirmation before you or Ron or Hermione left, but everything happened too fast. The Death Eaters were counting on that," Lupin added darkly.

"Who…" the question vanished on his tongue, too heavy to ask. But the next moment, Harry knew he needed to ask it. "The killing curse…who…?"

Lupin was silent for a few minutes. "I'm not sure, Harry. I didn't have the chance to look. I just needed to get you out of there while the Death Eaters were at bay. But it was one of our own, yes," Lupin said softly, sensing Harry's next question.

Behind him, Harry heard Hermione sobbing softly. Lupin turned around to face them, apparently aware of the sound at the same moment as Harry. "Hermione, are you all right?" Lupin asked kindly.

Hermione nodded. "J-just a little shaken," she replied. "And I'm worried about Ron, leaving him like that…"

"Ron'll be fine," Harry said, though he, too, was worried. "The Order's there, and the Death Eaters were outnumbered." Even with one man down, Harry thought. The idea made him queasy.

The rest of the journey back to Hogwarts was a blur. No one said a word as they made their way through the dark tunnel. Harry was grateful Lupin was there, leading them along to the secret entrance to the castle, and then to Dumbledore's office. Harry could sense Hermione trembling slightly behind him, but he found himself unable to find any words to comfort her.

In what seemed like no time at all, Harry entered Dumbledore's office for the second time that day. Dumbledore sat at his desk, his head bowed down. Harry could make out the expression on his face, though, and it was this more than anything that had happened at The Burrow that frightened Harry. It was a look of sadness and grief, not unlike the expression on Dumbledore's face after Sirius died.

He looked up as they entered the room. "Please, have a seat," he said, his voice low. Three chairs appeared facing opposite Dumbledore's desk, and it was with shaking legs did Harry sit down in the centre chair.

"As I suspected, the Death Eaters tried to lure you away, Harry, from the safety and security of this castle. You have probably surmised that the Weasley family was never in any danger. I've been worried for some time now that something like this would happen," Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "It was only a matter of time…

"Professor – "

"This is my fault, Harry. I should have confirmed it with the Order before I let any of you leave the castle. But love often leads us to make foolish mistakes. Once again, I've found myself caring too much, and my concern for the Weasleys clouded my judgment. Don't blame yourself, Harry."

After a moment of silence, Dumbledore continued speaking with what seemed like great effort. "I can't prolong the inevitable, though I wish it was in my power to do so without any cost to you.

"Ron was hit by the Avada Kedavra curse during the attack."

Harry's heart stopped, skipping several beats. His lungs ceased to fill with air. For several moments, Harry simply sat there in disbelief. He could not – no, _would _not – believe what Dumbledore said.

Then, to his right, he heard Hermione start to sob. The sound broke through to Harry, who felt like he had come out of some sort of trance.

He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like he would legitimately throw up the contents of his stomach right then and there, but the thought didn't concern him for a moment. His hands were shaking, and his heart and lungs started working overtime, making up for lost time.

"I should go see if Molly and Arthur need anything…" Lupin mumbled, his voice low and restricted. "Does Ginny know?"

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. Harry watched without really noticing as Dumbledore's eyes grew shiny.

Lupin got to his feet. "Harry, Hermione…" he started. He squeezed Harry's shoulder gently. "This is a…a loss unlike any other," he said. "I'm here for both of you."

Harry remained silent as Lupin exited. He glanced over at Hermione, who was still sobbing.

"Oh, Harry!" she wailed. She flung herself at him, crying so hard her body was shaking.

For some reason, it was this that caused Harry to break down. As he hugged Hermione, as they rocked back and forth, tears poured down his face. A huge ache in his chest overwhelmed him, taking over the spot where his heart had once been. He was sure it had been replaced with a big, gaping hole.

* * *

Hermione lost track of how long she and Harry stayed in Dumbledore's office. She knew the whole school was being informed and was grateful to be away from everyone as they found out. The last thing she needed was to see so much as one sad face, one person in tears. That would be all it took before she broke down again, and she wasn't ready for that. Simply breathing in and out had become an enormous task – she couldn't figure out how she was supposed to stay strong on top of it.

Finally, Dumbledore suggested they go back to the dorm. It was the last thing Hermione wanted to do – somehow, in the confines of Dumbeldore's office, Ron was still alive. Leaving it would mean that Ron was really…that he had actually…

Wordlessly, Harry and Hermione left Dumbledore's office. Hermione started trembling and held onto Harry for support. He didn't seem to mind; on the contrary, he clutched her hand with surprising strength. Silently, they made their way to the Head Boy and Head Girl dorm. Neither wanted to face a crowd just then.

They were about halfway there when Hermione saw Draco coming down the hallway, walking towards them. As one, Harry and Hermione stopped in their tracks. Harry's grip on her tightened ever so slightly.

"I've been looking for you," Draco told Hermione. His eyes swept over to Harry, then down to their entwined hands before glancing back up at Harry. Hermione gently let go of Harry's hand with some reluctance.

"I heard what happened," Draco continued. "Are you all right?"

Hermione felt her already weak resolve crumble. Tears poured down her cheeks in an instant. "No," she got out.

Harry reached out to comfort her, looking seconds away from breaking down himself. Draco reached her first, an annoyed look on his face. "I've got it from here, Potter," Draco said coldly. He folded Hermione in a hug.

Harry was in no state to retort. He simply shrugged half-heartedly and starting walking again, back to the dorm.

"Draco, please, I need to be with Harry," Hermione said, still sobbing. "He can't be alone right now. He just can't." A sudden, strange panic began to rise as Harry walked away. She tried desperately to get to him, but Draco's arms remained firm around her. "_Please."_

Draco released her and took a small step back. "Potter's a big boy, he can take care of himself," he said slowly. He regarded her with an inquisitive expression. "Don't you want me to help you through this?"

"Of course, Draco, but I need Harry right now," Hermione pleaded. "He's my best friend and he _can_'t take care of himself. Not right now. Not with –" she stopped short, unable to say her fallen friend's name quite yet. Her throat constricted her breathing momentarily, and she took a few gulps of air before continuing. "Harry needs me. Just let me go."

She started to turn, but Draco grabbed her wrist. "Hermione, I'm your boyfriend, not him. I don't think you need-"

"Just what the hell is wrong with you?" Hermione asked with a force of anger she'd never felt before. "You picked this moment to start being jealous?" She yanked her wrist free. "I can't do this, Draco." She turned and started to run, hoping to catch up with Harry, and ignoring Draco's protests hitting her in the back.

Hours later – though it seemed like days later – the sun faded away and the moon shined brightly into the darkened castle. Harry and Hermione remained holed up in their dorm, sitting on the couch and barely speaking. At some point, Hermione mentioned that she might have broken up with Draco, but it felt too weird, too inappropriate to talk about anything as trivial as a break up just then. She wasn't even sure Harry had heard her, but she found herself not caring too much. It wasn't important, not right then.

Eventually, Hermione noticed her exhaustion. She'd thought earlier that she would never be able to sleep tonight, but now it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. "I'm going to go to bed," she said softly, getting to her feet.

"All right," Harry replied vaguely. His eyes were fixed on something straight ahead, but he seemed to barely notice his surroundings. Seeing him like this nearly broke Hermione's heart, but she knew that there wasn't much she could do for him.

In her room, Hermione changed into her nightgown, discarding her robes on the floor, and crawled into bed, not bothering to turn off the light. She prayed that she'd fall asleep before her brain took over. She was okay as long as she pretended everything was fine, but it was only a matter of time before her mind would force her to face the truth.

Just as she felt her eyes starting to shut, the door swayed open. Hermione sat up, startled. "Harry?" she asked, confused, as he stood there without an explanation.

He entered her room, and shut the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes, then crossed the dark room to Hermione's bed and climbed in.

"Harry…" Hermione began. She felt him trembling beside her, and suddenly understood. He didn't want to be alone tonight.

Neither did she, she realized. She needed him just as much as he seemed to need her.

She laid back down slowly. Harry reached out and held her close to him, almost too tightly. Hermione felt tears slide down her cheeks once more as she heard Harry's breath become short and rapid, and felt his tears drip onto her nightgown.

They stayed like that, neither saying a word, until the tears stopped and Harry's breathing turned slow and even. As Hermione began to drift off, she realized that this was only the beginning of what was to come.

* * *

Right, so sorry it was so long, and sorry for killing off Ron and such. I have to admit, it's a little weird writing this now, after knowing how the books end and being completely off base. Ah, the beauty of writing A/U! Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and the next chapter will hopefully be up soon and not, you know, 3 years from now. – tinydancer


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